


Captive

by yesno



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Death, Asphyxiation, Blood and Gore, Dissociation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eye Trauma, Force-Feeding, Hand Jobs, Horror, Humiliation, M/M, Mental Anguish, Physical Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape, Sadism, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence, Torture, Victim Blaming, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-27
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-05-16 15:51:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5831533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yesno/pseuds/yesno
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bill offers Ford unlimited knowledge in exchange for information on how to lower the force field surrounding Gravity Falls. Ford refuses to rise to the bait forcing Bill to take drastic measures.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

 Bill Cipher floated above Ford Pines, single eye staring fixedly at the old man before him. Around Ford’s neck, a thick, metal collar emitted a steady blue glow. Linking chains attached to the O ring of the collar kept him tethered to the obsidian wall behind him, preventing escape.

 "I know we had a bit of a ‘falling out’ in the past, Sixer, but I’m willing to put all that behind us if you would just do me one tiny favor and-“

 "No” Ford said firmly. Bill looked affronted, squinting his eye slightly at the man below him. Ford stared sternly back.

 "You don’t even know what I was going to ask for!“ He said indignantly, finger tapping impatiently against the cocktail glass in his hand.

 "I don’t care,” Ford said. “I don’t want to hear it. No more deals, no more tricks. I’ve had enough of this, Bill.”

 "Come on, there’s gotta be something you want! Knowledge? All the secrets of the known and unknown universe?“ Bill offered. "All I ask is just a little cooperation. You scratch my back and I scratch yours?”

 "What I want is for you let me go, gather up all your stupid friends, and leave this dimension forever.“ Ford said, voice echoing off the dark walls.

 Bill stared at him for a moment before sighing. He tilted his glass back and let a bit liquid hit the underside of his eyelid. No matter how many times Ford had seen him drink, it had never stopped being disturbing.

 Bill regarded him carefully for a moment. "You really changed a lot within the past 30 years, huh? I offer unlimited knowledge and you don’t even bite!”

 Ford scowled up at him. “Not if it’s at the cost of my family’s safety. Or the entire universe for that matter.”

 "Ugh,“ Bill groaned, rolling his eye. "You used to be a lot more fun than this. Less annoyingly stubborn too.”

 Bill splashed the rest of the glass’ content against his eye before letting it drop to the floor with a crash. Ford flinched slightly at the sound and before he knew it the collar around his neck tightened suddenly. He choked from the sudden constriction, hands scrabbling at the metal around his neck.

 "What do I have to do to get you to hear me out?“ Bill asked, watching Ford hopelessly tug at the collar. "Rip your teeth out one by one? Or your fingernails? Maybe I’ll just slowly peel the skin off your miserable body until you’re ready to listen!”

 Ford desperately gasped for air, but to no avail. The collar was too tight. He felt his throat close up and terrible pressure build behind his eyeballs. He collapsed to his side, thrashing against the cold floor of Bill’s quarters. After what felt like an eternity, the collar loosened slightly, just enough for Ford to get a lung-full of air.

 "Ready to cooperate?“ Bill asked in a saccharine tone.

 Ford rolled onto his back, heaving. His throat and lungs ached and his mouth was dry. He managed to croak out a firm "No” before the collar was mercilessly tightened around his neck again.

 "Oh well, suit yourself!“ Bill said. "I can do this all day, you know. And all day tomorrow. And the day after that.”

 Ford’s chest burned, tears filled his eyes as he struggled against the collar’s grip, mouth agape. He could actually hear his heart pounding in his ears and his vision began to blacken around the edges. He squeezed his eyes shut and a few tears spilled down the sides of his face.

 Before his vision darkened completely, the collar loosened again. He instinctively gasped, coughing as air quickly passed through his dry throat.

 "Woah there!“ Bill laughed, patting the side of Ford’s almost purple face. "Almost lost you there for a second. Don’t think I’m done with you yet!”

 Ford wheezed painfully, eyes squeezed shut. He felt Bill’s fingers linger over the wet trail his tears left for a moment before pulling back. A few seconds passed before a sudden burst of laughter slightly echoed off the walls of the room. Ford squinted his eyes open to see the demon floating above him, single eye narrowed in amusement.

 "Well, well, well! Maybe you didn’t change as much as I thought you did" Bill laughed again, reaching down to the unmistakable bulge in the front of Ford’s pants. Ford gasped and attempted to squirm away when he felt the tip of Bill’s claws brush against the fabric.

 "Don’t" Ford rasped, head spinning from the previous loss of air.

 "Don’t what? This?“ Bill asked as he painfully gripped Ford’s cock through his pants.

 "STOP THAT” Ford shouted, kicking at the demon.

 Bill floated back, seeming positively delighted at the turn of events.

 "I can’t believe I forgot about that fun little detail about you!“ Bill said, rubbing his hands together. If he had a mouth he would surely be smirking. "You’re hilarious…and disgusting.”

 A blue aura enveloped Ford as he was lifted to his knees. His hands were forced behind his back as additional chains materialized and wrapped around his wrists and elbows, keeping him from moving his arms. The chain attached to his collar was pulled taut by some unseen force, forcing his head back slightly.

 "What do you think you’re doing, Bill!?“ Ford growled, struggling against the binds. Doing so caused the collar to press uncomfortably against his adam’s apple.

 "Polydactylism isn’t the only thing that makes you such a freak, huh!” Bill laughed. He pressed the end of his cane against the head of Ford’s still hard, clothed bulge. A humiliating squeak escaped Ford's throat at the contact.

 Bill poked the erection a few times before quickly sweeping his arm to the side and firmly whapping the side of his cane against Ford’s dick.

 "Bill!“ Ford cried out, pain flaring up his length. Bill brought the cane down on him again, cackling at his reaction. Ford arched forward as the cane smacked against his sensitive member once more, briefly choking himself as he pulled against the chain.

 "You’re still so much fun to play with even after all this time.” Bill mused. He reached down with one dark hand and gently rubbed the hardness in Ford’s pants. He dropped his cane with a clatter, one hand unbuttoning the man’s pants while the other slowly pulled the zipper down.

 "I swear to god, stop what you’re doing now!“ Ford shouted as Bill pulled his pants down slightly, then his briefs, revealing his painfully hard cock. Ford averted his eyes, ashamed. He felt his face flush and his legs tremble as Bill pressed a thumb against the wet slit of his tip.

 "Ha, look at you,” said Bill, rubbing small circles around the sensitive head. “You’re such a ridiculous creature.”

 Bill reached one hand up underneath Ford’s thick wool sweater to gently pet the soft flesh of his belly. Ford sucked in a breath, eyes squeezing shut.

 "You’re being awfully quiet right now,“ Bill teased. "You actually like this don’t you?”

 Ford’s mouth thinned, embarrassed that this was even happening and mortified that his body was responding positively to Bill’s touches.

 "I bet you missed me touching you like this.“ Bill crooned softly, pushing the hand on Ford’s belly up to his chest, pulling the sweater up with it. "Remember when you practically begged for it?”

 Ford whimpered. He didn’t want this. This wasn’t okay. This wasn’t-

 Bill dragged his nails down Ford’s chest, leaving bloody, red lines. Ford shouted, cock twitching in Bill’s hand.

 "And how could I say no when you made the most hilarious sounds?“ Bill said as he pulled his hands away from Ford’s body. He eyed the blood on the tips of his claws on one hand and the precum smeared on the other.

 "That’s one thing I like about humans.” He said, rubbing his fingers together. “You’re all full of disgusting fluids. It’s so gross!” He laughed.

 Ford groaned, chest stinging from where Bill scratched him. He felt hands tug at his sweater and the sound of tearing fabric filled his ears. He opened his eyes to see Bill slowly ripping his sweater open, single eye narrowed in concentration. After Ford’s chest was fully exposed and Bill deemed his work satisfactory, he floated behind him and out of sight.

 "I wonder if you still have the tattoo…“ Bill pondered. He hooked his fingers into the collar of the sweater (or what remained of it) and pulled down, revealing Ford’s upper back. Ford felt Bill’s fingers trace the ink on his skin and heard a snort of amusement. Years ago, Ford had Bill’s summoning wheel tattooed on himself as a token of admiration and devotion. Now it was just another regret.

 "That’s enough.” Ford said bitterly. “Please just let me go.”

 Bill removed his hand from the now gray ink of the old tattoo and tapped the space under his eye in thought. “Hmm…I think no. Unless you’ve changed your mind about being an insufferable, bull-headed maggot and listen to my offer.”

 Ford said nothing.

 Bill waited a moment before shrugging. “Fine, suit yourself!”

 Ford felt a hand run along the side of his face and fingers press to his lips. He tightened his mouth to stop them from slipping inside.

 "Nope, none of that now.“ Bill said, reaching his other hand around to squeeze Ford’s cheeks, trying to get him to open up. Ford grunted, refusing to comply.

 Bill huffed in annoyance as he tightened his grip, the other hand attempting to pry Ford’s lips open. A single finger managed to slip inside, rubbing against Ford’s clenched teeth. Bill pulled at the corner of his mouth.

 "If you don’t unclench your jaw, Fordsy, I’m going to rip your eyes out of your head!” Bill sang, releasing his jaw to trace a single claw along the underside of Ford’s left eye.

 Ford relented and his jaw loosened, allowing Bill to slip two fingers inside and press against his tongue. He could feel the tips of Bill’s claws lightly scratch the surface and Ford prayed that they don’t cut the soft flesh.

 "The threat still stands if you choose to bite, just so you know.“ Bill said as he stroked the muscle, pinching it between two fingers for a moment before reaching further back in Ford’s throat. Ford instinctively gagged at the intrusion, teeth briefly pressing against Bill’s hand.

 "Hey, what did I just say!?” Bill shouted, pulling his hand out and leaving a wet slap on Ford’s cheek. Ford cringed at the feeling. “I’ll be nice and give you another chance but it’ll be your last one.”

 Bill pushed his fingers back into Ford’s mouth. Ford whimpered softly and his eyes began to water as the pads of Bill’s fingers once again rubbed against his tongue. This time when Bill reached further in, nothing was stopping a bit of hot bile from escaping his throat.

 Ford heaved and coughed as Bill quickly removed his fingers, a sticky spit string connecting them together. Ford grimaced in disgust as drool and vomit dripped from his mouth onto the floor. Bill floated back in front of him, laughing.

 "Oh wow, that sure was something! Something gross, that is.“ Bill said, flicking spit and puke from his hand onto the stone floor.

 "You’re fucking disgusting,” Ford growled, eyes watering and throat burning.

 "I seem to recall that came from you and not me.“ Bill said, gesturing to the small mess. "So who’s really disgusting here?”

 Ford’s face twisted in anger as he spat the last bit of bile from the back of his throat at Bill. The fluid splattered near his bow tie, dripping slowly into the space between his bricks. Bill’s golden glow flashed red as his hand whipped back and slapped Ford hard across the face.

 Ford’s head jerked to the side. His face stung and he could feel where Bill’s claws nicked the flesh of his cheek. Bill grabbed his face, turning Ford’s head to stare at him full on. The slit of his pupil narrowed into a thin line and Ford could see every vein leading to his canthus. His body pulsed a deep red and for the first time since this all started, Ford was genuinely afraid.

 "I’m getting real tired of this, Stanford.“ Bill’s voice dropped an octave. "All I wanted was for you to hear me out but you’re making this exceedingly difficult.” His hands tightened around Ford’s face and Ford could feel the tips of his claws bite into the flesh.

 "You have two options. You either tell me how to lower the force field surrounding this stupid hick town or I’ll keep you like this. Chained in this very spot. I can tear your mind and body apart and you won’t even have death to look forward to because I can and will keep you alive as long as I want. For an eternity if I have to.“

 Bill’s hands loosened their grip, one moving up to stroke Ford’s hair in an insincere display of affection. "I’m not kidding either. Don’t forget, you’re not in control here. I could do whatever I want with you and when I get bored, my friends could have their turn. I know a few of them would just love to tear you open. In more ways than one!” Bill floated back, cackling. His body flashed back to its normal gold hue as Ford stared at the demon before him, heart pounding rapidly in his chest.

 "So what’ll it be, Fordsy?“ Bill asked sweetly, clasping his hands in front of him.

 Ford avoided looking at him. His gaze unintentionally strayed to a ridiculous portrait on the wall of Bill wearing a ruby encrusted crown. He opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. He thought of his brother, his grand-niece and nephew. Their fate was unknown to him but there was still a chance that Stanley and the kids managed to escape Gravity Falls. Dipper had the journals and knowing that eased his mind a bit.

 Bill was getting impatient.

 "Look, I know how you’re feeling right now. Really I do! Hopelessly restricted, unable to spread your metaphorical wings and soar to greener pastures. Unable to set those greener pastures on fire.” Bill said dramatically. “This is your fault, you know. After all the grief you’ve put me through, the least you could do is help me with just this one little thing.”

 Ford had nothing to say to him. He wasn’t going to give in. He refused.

 Bill regarded him for a moment before reaching out and ruffling Ford’s hair, sighing.

 "Fine, fine. I’ll give you some time to think on this one. I’m a reasonable guy! Although I don’t understand why you would choose to be stuck like this. I want to be friends with you, Sixer, I honestly do. I like you a whole lot.“

 He combed his hand through Ford’s graying hair, fingers catching against the tangles. Ford shivered as he felt Bill’s other hand trail down his chest, running along the scratches he left earlier.

 Ford inhaled shakily as the hand moved lower, tickling the hair of his stomach. He could feel the tips of Bill’s fingers linger at the base of his slightly softened cock, palm lying flat below his belly button.

 "And I know you still like me. Even if you aren’t aware of it yet. Maybe that’s really why you don’t want to help me. Are you afraid I’ll just toss you aside after you do what I ask?” Bill ran a loose fist down Ford’s dick. Ford’s hips twitched involuntarily.

 "I promise I wouldn’t. I’d take good care of you, Sixer.“ Bill gripped him more firmly, slowly rubbing the full length. Much to Ford’s chagrin, he was getting hard again and he silently hated himself for it.

 "Things could go back to the way they were between us. We could play games together again and talk for hours and hours like we used to. I could touch you like this, ” Bill punctuated the last word by twisting his hand and increasing the speed of his movements. Ford gasped. “Whenever you wanted. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

 Ford knew what he was trying to do. He groaned as he felt Bill tug his hair, his other hand moving to squeeze the head of his cock. If Bill actually thought this would convince Ford to help him, he was really out of his mind. But there was no denying how his body reacted positively to the attention. A drop of precum leaked from his tip.

 "I can’t stand how quiet you’re being.“ Bill said, swiping his thumb over the head. "If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re giving me the cold shoulder.” He squeezed him for a moment before continuing to move his fist up and down the length.

 Ford hated him. He hated him so much.

 Bill hummed. “You don’t seem to be enjoying this as much as you should…Maybe you just need a little extra assistance!”

 The collar around Ford’s neck tightened once again, just enough to limit his breathing without completely cutting off his airway. Ford gasped and his entire body jerked as breathing quickly became difficult. He tried to move away but it was impossible without the collar cutting painfully into his skin.

 Bill began to pump his cock harder, faster. Ford shook and cried out. He could barely breathe, he was already getting light-headed, and Bill’s grip on his length was too much. He pistoned his hips forward into Bill’s fist involuntarily, sobbing at the over stimulation. His head spun and his vision blurred, chest rising and falling with each labored breath. He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed air, he needed-

 "B-ill" Ford choked out. “Bill!”

 "What was that?“ Bill asked, eye narrowed as if smiling. The speed of his hand slowed significantly.

 Ford barely stifled another moan as he bucked his hips into Bill’s hand. Bill stopped moving his arm entirely and simply watched the man before him begin to fuck his squeezed fist, brown eyes shut and teeth gritted as if in pain.

 "You should see yourself right now.” Bill chuckled, fondly running his hand along the damp skin of Ford’s neck not covered by metal. “You’re nothing but a vile animal running on base primal urges. The collar suits you nicely.”

 A wave of shame and anger hit Ford but he couldn’t begin to retaliate. Not with Bill’s hand tight around his cock and the collar tight around his throat. His chest heaved as his breaths became shallow and spots appeared in his vision. His tongue lolled out of his mouth and he felt a trickle of drool drip down his chin.

 "You’re lucky I’m nice enough to let you finish after all you’ve done for me,“ Bill said sarcastically. "You really don’t deserve this.”

 Ford could barely hear him. Bill’s voice sounded muffled as if he were underwater. He pushed his hips forward and back, in and out, until he felt a pressure build in his balls and lower belly. He was so close, so close, just a little more. His eyes rolled up. He hated this, he-

 Ford finished with a shout as he came all over Bill’s hand, hips still rocking into the grip. He groaned lowly as his sensitive cock rubbed against the tight slickness of Bill’s palm.

 "Oho!“ Bill laughed as Ford rode out the last of his orgasm. "That was kind of quick! It’s been a while for you, huh?”

 Ford felt the collar loosen once more and he gasped for air, light-headed and dizzy. He lowered his eyes down at Bill, whose hand and wrist were splattered with cum. Ford quickly averted his eyes.

 "Hey now,“ Bill started, catching the side of Ford’s face with his clean hand. Ford turned to look at him, mouth thin.

 "Think about what I said, okay? At least consider it!” Bill stroked his thumb against the corner of Ford’s mouth, fingers brushing against stubble. His other hand was clenched into a fist, preventing the cum from rolling off his palm.

 Ford furrowed his brow in anger. “You must really think I’m an idiot if you think I’d fall for your tricks again, Bill.” He leaned forward as much as the chain would allow without choking him. Venom laced his rasping voice. “There is no way in hell I would ever help you. There is nothing you could possibly offer to convince me to work for you. No amount of threats or promises are going to change my mind about this so give it up.”

 Bill gazed blankly at Ford. The old man’s hair was a mess and the skin around the collar was flushed red with what would be a bruise later. His sweater was torn to shreds and four vertical scratches framed with drying blood trailed down his damp chest. A single drop of semen still clung to the tip of his now flaccid cock.

 Bill unclenched his fist and roughly pushed his cum splattered hand on Ford’s face, smearing it across his cheek and mouth. Ford sputtered indignantly as Bill wiped the last of the fluid off in his gray hair before turning around and floating towards the door.

 "We’ll see about that.“ Bill called before slamming it shut behind him, leaving Ford alone in the dimly lit room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> rest in piss


	2. Chapter 2

 He dreamed of fire licking at his body, blistering heat bubbling flesh and searing his throat. His skin blackened and peeled in strips. He dreamed of thousands of staring eyes rolling in a surrounding wall of dark, twisting meat. Of snapping maws dripping viscous black fluid and deafening roars of pure white noise.

 Each time he would awake with a start, cold sweat dripping from his hairline and down his back. He laid prone on the hard floor of Bill’s quarters, ruined sweater long discarded. Fragments of each nightmare clung to the corners of his mind and he could feel the ghost of needle-like teeth at his throat. His head buzzed and his ears rang in the silence.

 The chain had slowly become slack not long after Bill had left, however long ago that was. Ford had slinked himself onto the floor as soon as he was able to, resting his heated body on the cold stone. Bill hadn’t visited him again in what felt like days but Ford knew that didn’t mean he wasn’t watching from some unseen vantage. The hair on the back of his neck raised at the thought.

 He rolled onto his side, sighing heavily. He gingerly brushed his fingers over the thick collar around his neck to the uncovered skin next to it. He pressed down, wincing slightly at the twinge of pain that accompanied the action. His neck was no doubt bruised.

 His thoughts strayed to his last encounter with Bill and his face grew hot with shame. He tried to push the memories down but to no avail. He thought of Bill’s dark hand caressing his belly, tugging his hair, pressing against his lips. He thought of the slick feeling of Bill’s cum-soaked hand squeezing his flushed cock, single eye watching intently as Ford rutted against him.

 He cringed and urgently willed the thoughts away, feeling sick. The now scabbed over scratches on his chest itched insistently, making the mental avoidance easier said than done. His temples throbbed and his stomach ached in hunger.

 He stared blankly at his hands from his place on the floor and began to twitch each finger slowly one by one as he counted. He had to stay awake.

  _One, two, three, four, five, six. One, two, three, four, five, six._  He alternated his counting with each hand until it steadily became a mantra. _One, two, three, four, five, six._

 After several minutes, his eyelids drooped and his vision became unfocused. He quickly shook his head to stop himself from falling asleep, the chafed skin of his neck rubbing uncomfortably against the metal collar. He remembered the feeling of that collar constricting around his throat and the sound of his own croaking gasps as he tried to force air down his tight throat.

 He decided to switch it up and began to multiply by six.

  _Six times one is six, six times two is twelve, six times three is eighteen._

 He made it to _six times twenty seven_ before his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door creaking open behind him. A scowl crossed his face and he didn’t bother looking up.

 "Wakey, wakey!“ Bill shouted from the arched doorway, jeering voice echoing off the obsidian walls as he floated to where the old man lay.

 Ford ignored him, loosely curling his fingers inward. He had known it wouldn’t be long before Bill finally decided to show up again. His gaze lingered on his dirty fingernails, chest slowly rising and falling with each breath. He wanted to sleep.

 "I got a surprise for you, Sixer, and one could say it’s _delectable_.” Bill laughed, prodding Ford in the ribs with his cane. Ford twitched in response, eyes unmoving from his nails.

 Bill waited a moment.

 "Are you not even going to ask what it is?“ Bill asked, sounding annoyed at Ford’s lack of attention.

 "What is it?” Ford deadpanned. He could feel his headache steadily build.

 "Food!“ Bill exclaimed as the sound of something heavy and wet smacked against the stone tiles.

 Ford was almost afraid to look. Regardless, he tentatively raised his head and turned a wary glance to whatever it was Bill had brought him. What he saw made his stomach churn.

 Laying on the floor was a cat. Or what used to be a cat. Shards of white bone poked out the flesh of it’s broken, bloody limbs. It’s back was bent and twisted in an unnatural angle and a trickle of dark fluid leaked from it’s extended jaw. A deep feeling of unease passed through Ford when he noticed the eyes have been removed from it’s smashed skull, empty sockets staring blankly back at him.

 "I thought you’d be hungry so I brought you something to eat!” Bill said, rubbing his blood-slicked hands together. The resulting noise was a obnoxious _shlick shlick_ as his palms slid against each other.

 Ford stared mouth agape at the mangled creature before him, swallowing down the bile that threatened to rise at the revolting sight.

 "I found her rooting around in a dumpster,“ Bill said proudly. “Did you know cats make this strange rumbling sound when you stroke their fur? Don’t know how they do it! Wasn’t able to find out, unfortunately.”

 Bill paused as if in thought, rubbing a filthy hand over the space beneath his eye. The blood soaked into his flat, golden surface before disappearing without a trace. Bill’s glow briefly shuddered.

 "Well, what are you waiting for?“ He asked after a moment, eyeing Ford expectedly.

 Ford gradually scooted back against the wall and as far from the corpse as possible.

 "I can’t eat this and you know it.” He said gruffly, eyes unmoving from the mutilated cat in front of him.

 Bill looked offended.

 "Unbelievable! I go through the trouble of bringing you food out of the goodness of my figurative heart and that’s your reaction?“

 He floated lower and laid his hands over the grimy fur of the cat’s belly. A single claw extended and quickly stabbed into the soft, bloated meat.

 He dragged slowly upward, ripping through skin and muscle. The flesh parted, spilling the animal’s intestines onto the stone floor. Blood leaked in between the tile cracks creating small rivers of dark ichor. Ford gagged.

 Bill pushed his hand inside the slit he created, moving past entrails and fascia to pull various organs out of the cat’s open belly.

 "Look it’s got all the good stuff too. Liver, kidneys- I know humans like to eat those!”

 He used his claws to slice off a small, bloody chunk of the animal’s spleen and held it out to Ford, palm up.

 "Now stop being ungrateful and eat.“ He said.

 Ford cringed at the mess in front of him before leveling his gaze at Bill.

 "You are out of your damn mind if you really think I’m going to eat that.”

 Bill’s eye narrowed in anger.

 "Unbelievable!“ He said again, tightly gripping the slab and throwing an empty hand up in the air in exasperation. A drop of blood hit Ford’s forehead and he quickly wiped it away with the back of his hand in disgust.

 "I prepare a delicious meal for some poor, good-for-nothing wretch and this is the thanks I get!” Bill said theatrically, placing the back of his hand above his eye in a mock display of despair. Blood once again seeped through his golden surface upon contact and his luminescence wavered briefly.

 Bill lowered his hands and floated down to Ford’s level. He reached out to the man before him and Ford recoiled, raising his arms in defense.

 "Get away from me!“ Ford growled but Bill persisted. Two additional arms twisted their way out of Bill’s sides, joints popping sickeningly as they quickly grasped Ford’s outstretched hands. Ford threw his body back in an attempt to pull away from Bill’s death grip, but to no avail.

 With his only free hand, Bill cupped the back of Ford’s head and pulled him closer. Ford could feel the wetness of Bill’s bloody fingers soak through his hair and it made him shudder in revulsion. Bill held the spleen lump between two fingers, its slimy surface shining slightly in the dim lighting.

 "You’re going to eat this.” Bill said, tone commanding. He brought the organ closer to Ford’s face.

 "No!“ Ford shouted in rage, struggling hopelessly against him.

 Bill gripped his hair painfully. Ford could feel the bones of his knuckles grind together as Bill tightened his clawed grip on his hands.

 "I’m not going to tell you again, Stanford.”

 Ford tried to shake his head from Bill’s grasp, tearing several strands of hair from his scalp in the process. Nonetheless, Bill’s merciless grip on his hair remained.

 Bill jerked Ford’s head back and dangled the organ slice above his mouth. A couple drops of blood dripped onto Ford’s chapped lips and slid down his jaw.

 "Here comes the airplane!“ Bill laughed as he slowly lowered the meat down to Ford’s mouth. Ford cringed and tightened his lips.

 "Oh no, It’s going to crash!” He said as he squished the spleen across Ford’s closed mouth. A strong smell of copper attacked Ford’s senses and a wave of nausea hit his belly. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately pretending that this wasn’t happening.

 Bill attempted to wiggle the meat between his lips. Fluid slipped into Ford’s mouth and he felt a slickness against his clenched teeth. A groan of revulsion escaped his throat.

  _Oh god please stop this let me go let me go_ , he thought in desperation.

 Bill paused before lifting the organ up and away from the man’s face. His grip on Ford’s hands loosened a bit.

 "You know,“ Bill began, "I can think of a little something you can do for me that will end this. All I want is for you to tell m-”

 "No,“ Ford gritted out, lips curling back. "No way in hell.”

 He already knew what Bill wanted and he wasn’t about to give in. Not that easily. A single blood droplet slid from his jaw down to the crevice of his neck.

 Bill’s eye narrowed in aggravation and he tightened his hands on Ford’s own.

 "You either tell me what I want to know or I’m going to make you eat every piece.” He waved the meat in front of Ford’s face for emphasis, squeezing it slightly between two fingers.

 "So what’s it gonna be, smart guy?"

 Ford grimaced. He knew he had no other choice.

 "Just…feed me the stupid cat,“ He ground out before squeezing his eyes shut and opening his mouth.

 Bill growled in irritation and roughly pressed the sliver of cat spleen onto Ford’s awaiting tongue. The man closed his mouth the moment Bill removed his fingers and quickly swallowed the piece whole, cringing as the slippery organ slid down his throat.

 Bill watched Ford’s face twist in revulsion and hummed in approval, previous displeasure slowly melting into unbridled schadenfreude.

 With his now free hand, Bill clutched the cat by one of it’s mangled hind legs and dragged it closer to himself. A trail of blood and viscera was left in its wake.

 Bill reached inside the animal, using a claw to disconnect one tiny kidney from its uretur. He placed it directly into Ford’s mouth who, after a brief moment of hesitation, swallowed the organ down quickly. This particular piece proved much easier to go down due to its small size. Ford was secretly grateful for that.

 Bill proceeded to methodically tear pieces of flesh and entrails from the deceased cat. Ford forced his mind to go blank as he swallowed each piece Bill offered to him whole, trying to avoid the coppery tang of blood that still managed to assault his taste buds.

 Nausea hit his stomach again and a burning sensation traveled up his esophagus. He forced it back down, trying his hardest to avoid thinking about what he was doing, what he was _eating_.

 After several minutes and a quarter of a cat later, Bill finally seemed to get bored. Ford fell back slightly as Bill released his hands and hair, additional limbs shifting and twisting back into the golden expanse of his body in a series of revolting cracking sounds.

 "Well THAT didn’t end the way I hoped it would,” Bill said with a small hint of disappointment. “But boy, was it sure interesting!

 Ford’s fingers twitched and his mouth was slick with blood. He noted with twinge of grim humor that he was no longer hungry anymore.

 The thought made him sick.

 "Although…I have to admit, I can’t say you didn’t do what I asked you.” Bill continued. “You were given two options, you made your choice, and followed it to a T so good job! I’d be almost proud of you if you weren’t such an unhelpful, vindictive sack of human filth.”

 Bill rested a bloody hand on the bare skin of Ford’s shoulder. Ford didn’t bother shrugging him off. He internally struggled not to vomit on his own lap.

 "Friendly advice, Sixer: compliance gets rewarded.“  Bill rubbed circles onto Ford’s flesh, smearing the sticky fluid. “It’d help you to remember that. You make my existence a little easier, then what’s left of _your_ miserable life will be nothing short of a cakewalk.”

 A brief vision of a scorched earth flashed through Ford’s mind. He stared blankly through Bill, stomach rolling.

 "What’s my reward supposed to be for this?“ Ford asked bitterly, gesturing towards the cat. His mouth tasted disgusting.

 Bill brought a single finger to Ford’s lips, shushing him.

 "Don’t worry about it now, pal. You’ll get it in due time.” Bill said, tapping his finger against Ford’s wet mouth.

 "In the mean time, why don’t you give me a six-fingered hand with this mess here!“ Bill laughed, pressing the pads of his first three fingers against the man’s lips.

 Ford’s face heated in rage and he wanted nothing more than to bite the fingers that lingered on his face. Hatred bubbled in his belly. Visions of tearing Bill apart with his bare hands attacked his mind before being replaced with an image of empty, bloody eye sockets. A smashed skull leaking brain matter, white and pink contrasting against a dark floor.

 He hesitated, heart pounding rapidly in his chest. The urge to tear into Bill’s physical form was overwhelming but

_He dragged slowly upward, ripping through skin and muscle. The flesh parted, spilling the animal’s intestines onto the stone floor._

 Instead, he hesitantly parted his lips and weakly pressed his tongue against Bill’s slick black fingers. He tasted like death.

 "Good boy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bite the hands and the fingers that feed


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **rape tw proceed with caution**

 He was floating in a dark abyss, body pleasantly warm and limbs heavy. His mind felt slow and dumb as if he were drunk or half asleep. He lazily lifted a hand before his face and waved it back and forth. Its motions seemed slightly choppy like his mind was processing images at a low frame rate.

 On a whim, he stretched his arm further outward and watched as his hand sank into what looked like pitch black smoke. It gave the peculiar illusion that his hand was cut off at the wrist. The blackness was like warm breath on his fingers and he felt something tickle his palm.

 A hand slowly clasped his own, its thumb rubbing soft circles onto his skin. A tingling warmth moved down his arm at the contact and he sighed, smiling.

 He felt the feather-light touch of another hand on his chest, tickling the hair as it moved up to stroke the bare skin of his neck. Another hand laid flat upon his upper back, fingers slowly following the curve of his spine before stopping at his tailbone and moving back up. Ford shivered as another ran along his hip, dipping into the juncture where his groin met his thigh before moving to rest on his rear.

 A pair of soft hands placed themselves on his shoulders, pressing down and tenderly rubbing the flesh.  Another pair gripped his waist and ran slowly up and down his sides.

 Ford gazed down at himself as dark hands appeared one by one from the shadows, their owners invisible. They massaged his body; caressed his stomach, his back, his thighs. The warm hands squeezed his flesh ever so gently and an tiny inkling of arousal grew in Ford’s belly.

 A hand placed themselves over Ford’s eyes, blocking his view and he whined softly in disappointment. Soft hands lightly grasped his forearms and brought them down to his sides, holding him in place. Ford found he had no energy nor desire to push back against them.

 A soft pressure sank into his lap, its weight indeterminate and constantly shifting. Something warm and wet pressed against the tip of his half hard cock and he gasped. It pushed and rolled against the head and a breathy moan slipped through Ford’s lips. He raised his hips up to the heat but hands pushed them back down, fingers digging maddeningly into his flesh.

 It continued to grind against him, slick and hot against his quickly growing length. Ford groaned low in his throat and his hips twitched against the hands holding him in place, silently begging for more contact.

 Suddenly the heat pressed down and enveloped his tip. Ford panted as it slowly lowered itself inch by inch over his girth, squeezing and pulsing around him. It stopped halfway before bringing itself back up. Ford bucked his hips weakly but to no avail. He felt a hand tweak his nipple and another run along his jaw, brushing against stubble.

 His breathing became heavy as the slick wetness ever so slowly lowered itself back down, once again stopping halfway on Ford’s dick before lifting back up. It repeated this motion several times and Ford growled in frustration, desperately rocking his hips up against the hands that cruelly held him down. He wanted more, needed more.

 "Please…“ He groaned, back arching slightly. He attempted to raise his arms, but the hands on his forearms wouldn’t budge. "Oh please, oh please.”

 " _Please what_?“ He heard a voice say. It was indistinguishable, soft, and coming from all directions. The hands on his body slowed.

 "Please-” He broke off in a gasp as two hands began to gently pinch and pull both nipples. His back arched further, mouth agape.

 " _Please what, Stanford?_ “ The voice repeated.

 "Fuck me.” Ford moaned weakly. He needed more.“Ohh, fuck me please.”

 He heard the voice chuckle, low, and reverberating off the walls of his skull. 

 The hands on his body held him as the slickness around Ford’s head steadily pushed down, little by little, until he was completely sheathed inside.

 Ford groaned and his cock twitched inside the tight heat. It grinded on him, pushing his length against its slick walls before lifting up and dropping back down over and over in a steady rhythm.

 Ford’s body seized and he shouted as it began to fuck him, a dozen hands rubbing wonderfully against his damp skin. It was so tight, so wonderfully, almost unbearably tight.

 " _You feel so good,_ “ He heard the voice say as the heat once again lifted and slammed itself back down on him. Ford shivered at the compliment.

 ” _You feel amazing. You’re amazing._ “`It said. A pair of hands ran along his inner thighs and began to spread them open.

 ” _You’re so amazing, Stanford._ “ He felt a hand run along his ass and move to dip between the cheeks. He gasped as a slick finger prodded his entrance before slowly pushing pass the ring of muscle.

 ” _I’d do anything for you._ “ 

 The finger rubbed inside him for a moment before another slowly pushed its way in, stretching him. They brushed against his prostate, drawing a low moan from Ford’s throat.

_"Would you do anything for me?”_

 Ford’s eyes rolled back and he found himself nodding dumbly as the fingers began to press persistently against his sweet spot. The dripping hotness around his cock squeezed itself around him and Ford felt himself nearing the edge.

 " _Do you want to feel like this all the time?_ “

 The fingers pulled themselves out and Ford almost choked as they were quickly replaced with something thicker. It pushed itself slowly inside him, the stretch burning in the most pleasant of ways.  A soft "yes” escaped Ford’s throat.

 " _Then help me._ “

 Help with what?

 The thickness pulled out slightly before roughly slamming back into him. Ford shouted as it began to steadily pummel him, hitting his prostate with every thrust. That combined with the heat still grinding on his cock and the hands on his body he was sure he wouldn’t last much longer.

 ” _Help me_.“ It said again. 

 ” _I’ll take good care of you._ “

 Ford froze. A sudden icy chill crawled up his spine as his brain registered that last sentence. 

 Where did he hear it before?

 Horror hit Ford’s stomach in a creeping wave as his mind slowly came to. His entire body jerked against the hands holding him in place. He tried to swing his arms out, to shake his head to dislodge the hand covering his eyes but it was no use. All the while he was still being pounded into, bounced on, touched.

 "Stop!” He shouted and everything came to a halt. The hands on his body stilled. “Get off me- get away from me!”

 Silence settled in. The thickness in his ass ceased its movements and the thing on his cock no longer squeezed around him, its warmth fading. 

 Everything was unnaturally still.

 " _What’s wrong?_ “ The voice asked. It sounded strange but there was no mistaking its cadence now.

 "Bill, let me go!” Ford yelled, fighting against the hands that held him in place, their grip hard and unmovable like stone. “I know you’re the one doing this!”

 A moment passed. A chill pervaded the world around him and Ford shivered, goosebumps rising on his flesh. Suddenly, claws dug into his skin and he cried out in pain. To Ford’s horror the thing in his ass began to move again, slowly thrusting in and out of him.

 "Bill!“ Ford shouted. The tightness around his cock became a vice-like grip, squeezing him painfully. The thrusts began to speed up.

 "BILL, STOP!” He thrashed, causing the claws to tear into his body like thorns. They cut into his back, his chest, his neck, everywhere. All the while he was being hammered into and it no longer felt good anymore, _it hurt_. Oh my god, it hurt and he couldn’t move. He couldn’t get away.

 He was stretched painfully open and the pressure on his cock was agonizing. His insides were on fire. His skin burned where Bill touched and his breathing became hollow as he started to hyperventilate. 

 "Stop,“ He gasped. Every thought in his head seemed to be replaced with that single word. "Stop, stop, stop.”

 But his cries fell on deaf ears. Hard thrusts rocked his body and claws dragged across his flesh. Fear laced Ford’s mind and churned in his gut. His thoughts turned to static. There was no escape, no way out. This was a dream, he knew now, but it all felt too painfully real.

 "Please, Bill…“ He was ashamed of how weak his voice sounded. How weak Bill made him. "Please-”

 Suddenly, everything stopped again like someone hitting pause on a tape.

 "Please what?“ There was that voice again, completely recognizable this time.

 "No more.” Ford croaked. “I- No more, please.”

 "I’m just doing what you asked, Fordsy. Your reward was a pleasant dream and that’s what I’m giving you.“

 "This isn’t- I didn’t want this, I-” Ford stammered. His chest felt constricted.

 Bill’s high laugh cut through the void like a knife. A single hand ran up Ford’s stomach, claws lightly scraping the skin.

 "You told me to fuck you and isn’t that what I’m doing?“ Bill asked, sounding far too enthusiastic for Ford’s liking. "You did something I asked earlier and now I’m returning the favor by doing something you asked.”

 "No, you-“ Ford started but was interrupted by the hand covering his eyes moving to slap itself tightly over his mouth. 

 Countless yellow eyes stared at him from all directions, pupils so narrow they were almost lost in the sclera. Over his lap, a large shroud of billowing darkness slowly pulsed as if breathing. Hands, once soft and human-like, were now tipped with cruel-looking talons that pierced his bloody flesh.

 Ford froze in terror, eyes wide as saucers. He breathed heavily through his nose and he felt his chest was going to burst with how hard his heart was pounding.

 "Relax!” Bill said, sounding slightly exasperated. “Geez, you really know how to make a guy feel good about his alternate forms. I’m just trying to do you a favor.”

 Ford shook his head frantically and squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel Bill’s eyes boring into his body and he felt horribly exposed.

 "Do you really want me to stop?“ Bill asked.

 Ford could do nothing else but nod his head desperately. He felt his eyes sting with the beginnings of tears and- No, he wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to cry but the pain was agonizing. He took a shuddering breath through his nose, trying to get himself under control.

 "Weeell, consider this,” Bill started. “You know how I gave you two choices to work with last time? I would have much preferred the option where you told me about the force field, but instead you chose the second option. Not that I’m complaining too much- The whole thing was hilarious!

 "But what I’m trying to say is you gave me two choices as well. To fuck you and to stop fucking you…Do you see where I’m going with this, Sixer?”

 Ford understood. Fear struck his chest and a hollow sob escaped his throat.

 "Glad you’re getting it!“

 Suddenly, the thing in his ass pulled out and thrusted itself, quick and deep, back inside him. A muffled scream tore through Ford’s throat and every muscle in his body seemed to seize. There was nothing he could do to get away. Not with the numerous hands digging their clawed grasp into his flesh nor the unbearable cold tightness squeezing his length.

 He had to wake up. This was just a dream, it wasn’t real.

 It wasn’t real.

 A particularly hard thrust rocked his body and caused the claws to rake against his flesh as they held him in place.

 It wasn’t real. 

 The strips of skin visible in between Bill’s many hands were littered with deep, bloody gashes. Sweat stung his wounds.

 It was just a dream.

 A thousand golden eyes watched him from the shadows, their gazes unwavering.

 Wake up.

 It slammed into his body over and over and oh god, it hurt. It hurt, _it hurt_ , and it wasn’t going to end.

 Wake up.

 It wasn’t going to end.

  _Wake up_ -

 Ford awoke with a jolt on the hard obsidian floor, kicking and clawing at the hands that were…no longer there. He stared wide-eyed down at his sweating body. No hands, no new scratches. The only ones he saw were the four vertical lines running down his chest from when Bill…when Bill…

 The thought of Bill forced a hoarse cry from Ford’s throat.  His stomach churned suddenly and violently as he rolled over onto his hands and knees and wretched onto the floor below him. He still felt the ghost of hands against his skin, claws cutting into his flesh, the feeling being painfully stretched open, and-

 An abrupt coughing fit racked his chest and the afterimage of bright yellow eyes lingered behind his wet eyelids. He heaved once more but nothing came up save for a little stomach acid. His throat burned horrendously.

 He squinted his eyes open and his wheezing breath caught in his throat at the horrid sight below him.

 It was blood. Blood and unchewed flesh and entrails lying in the space between Ford’s braced hands. He threw himself backwards and as far from the mess as the chain would allow, covering his nose. The world spun around him, the edges frayed and blurred and he swore he saw ink-black hands reaching for him in the peripheral of his vision.

 He recoiled, but the chain prevented him from moving further back. A sob forced its way through his chest and he pressed the heels of his hands hard against his eyes beneath his glasses. His heart raced and his breathing came out in quick, shallow puffs. Ford was almost sure he was going to pass out if a heart attack didn’t get to him first.

 Claustrophobia settled in and suddenly the room was too small and the collar too tight. He felt his throat close up like he was choking all over again and Bill was there with him. Body no longer gold but pulsing a deep red. Red like that cat with it’s empty eye sockets and plump intestines. Red like his vomit or his bloody, torn up chest. 

 He had to get a hold of himself. He was alone but the creeping sensation of being watched persisted. He brought his trembling hands down and twitched each finger one by one.

  _One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six._ Breathe in slowly with one number, exhale with the other.   _One._ Inhale. _Two._ Exhale. _Three._ Inhale. Don’t panic, control your breathing. Focus on your intellect.

 He gradually relaxed but he felt as though he were hanging from a thin thread and one wrong move could cause it to snap. His body was numb and his brain seemed to buzz. But he was in control.

 He was in control.

 He took a shuddering breath and gritted his teeth. He was sweating bullets and his skin felt disgusting. Tears welled in his eyes but he wiped them away before they could spill over. Just breathe in and out, in and out.

 Just breathe.

-

 "I’m not really sure about this, Bill. I appreciate you having faith in me but this task seems…daunting.” Yes, daunting was a good word to describe it. “I’m afraid I won’t live up to your expectations.”

 "Please, you have to give yourself more credit than that.“ Bill said, waving his hand dismissively. "There’s a reason I chose you, brainiac. You’re smart, you’re resourceful. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll succeed on bringing our little project to fruition. Do you think I would have chosen you if I didn’t think you could handle it?”

 Ford supposed not but he was still unsure. Constructing an interdimensional portal seemed feasibly impossible where current technology stood. Even if he had all the materials and resources to create such a device it would take years to make it fully operational.

 "Trust me, you can do this.“ Bill said as if reading Ford’s thoughts. "All you need a little kick in the right direction and I’m happy to be the one to provide it.”  
He emphasized his last statement by kicking a black leg up into the air with a small “hyah!” Ford quickly masked his snort with a sip of his tea. It tasted of apples and cinnamon.

 "So don’t sweat it!“ Bill continued. "Creating this portal will not only provide the key you need to finish your research, it will also unveil a new era of human enlightenment! You think the moon landing was something? What Stanford Pines is about to bring to the table will knock Neil Armstrong’s space boots right off!”

 Bill laughed and Ford couldn’t help but laugh along with him.

 "Okay, okay.“ Ford said, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I’ll do it. We’ll do it.”

 "Glad to hear it! I knew I could count on you,“ Bill said with a crinkle of his eye. 

 "I can already tell this is going to be the start of a beautiful partnership, don’t you think?”

 Ford thought so. He nodded before taking another sip of his tea. This time it tasted like pomegranate with a hint of raspberry. 

 "Anyway, it’s still your turn.“ Bill said a moment later, gesturing towards the chess board in front them.

 Oh, he had almost forgot. Ford released the cup from his grasp and allowed it to float a few inches into the air above him. He paused for a few seconds before making a random move, not really caring whether it was a good one or not. 

 He had other things on his mind.

-

 Ford allowed his mind to go blank as he watched the dancing flames within the fireplace. They were ever present; never fully devouring the wood nor needing a good prod with a fire iron to keep them burning.

 He sat cross legged with his back against the wall, gaze unwavering from the fire across the room. His eyelids drooped and his jaw stretched in a long, drawn out yawn. He was utterly exhausted but that was in no way new. He didn’t dare try to fall asleep though for the fear of Bill waiting for him in his dreams. Dread formed a pit in his throat at the thought but he swallowed it down. 

 It was impossible to tell how long it has been since he woke up but knowing would have made little difference. There was no point in keeping track of time when "time was dead” after all. 

 The flames turned into waving blurs of orange as his eyes unfocused. He scratched absentmindedly at his chest, peeling off the tiny scabs of his slowly healing scratches.

 The grating sound of the door creaking open reached his ears and he felt the pit in his throat reform.

 "Well, you cut that one off prematurely huh?“

 Ford’s entire body seemed to tense at the sound of Bill’s voice. His vision quickly refocused but they remained unmoving from the flames.

 ” _And_ I see you weren’t able to keep your meal down,“ Bill said with a hint of annoyance as he eyed the congealed pool of vomit on the floor. "Was I really that bad?”

 Bill waved a hand and the mess disappeared without a trace.

 Ford saw the golden light of Bill’s body steadily grow brighter from the corner of his eye as the demon approached. A few seconds passed before a black hand waved in front of his face.

 "Hello, anyone home?“ Bill called before annoyingly tapping a finger against Ford’s forehead.

 Ford’s face twisted and he promptly slapped the hand away, earning a disgruntled "Hey!” from Bill. He suddenly felt a vicious tug on his hair before his head was slammed hard against the wall behind him.

 "You know, Sixer, you really need to _wind down_.“ The last two words were punctuated by a painful twist of Ford’s hair before Bill released him. Ford hissed and gripped his head, glaring at Bill through watery eyes.

 "What the hell do you want?” Ford growled.

 "Jeez, relax! I can’t even pay a visit to my favorite three dimensional flesh bag without being accused of wanting something? You act as if I have ‘ulterior motives’ or I’m 'out to get you because you have information I need’ or something. It get’s old, pal. It gets real old. Almost like you!“

 Bill reached out to pat Ford’s face but the man jerked his head away before contact was made.

 "Don’t touch me.” Ford’s voice was like ice.  

 "Okay, okay,“ Bill sighed, raising both hands. "You’re still mad about what happened earlier, I get it. Even though it’s ridiculous for you to be so sour about it considering you did the same thing to me so-”

 " _The same thing_?“ Ford asked incredulously. "How the hell is what I did any way comparable to you…you-” He couldn’t say it. Saying it would make it more tangible, more real. He felt his skin crawl.

 Bill already looked tired of the conversation.

 "Look I already explained it to you and I don’t think a smart guy like you needs things explained to him twice. Besides, you wouldn’t even be in this uncomfortable position now if you would have just worked with me from the beginning.“

 Ford’s temper flared violently but he refused to let it get the better of him.

 "So this is all my fault,” He gritted. He already knew Bill’s answer.

 "Yep, afraid so!“ Bill said frankly. "Hate to be the one to break it to you, Sixer, but the universe doesn’t revolve around you or your petty 'rivalry’ with me. Believe it or not, your actions affect other people!”

 Bill’s bow tie shifted until it took the form of a television screen on his gold surface. A video image of several demons appeared, each one seeming to be in various states of boredom or restlessness. One was tearing another apart with its wolfish maw, splattering cobalt blood onto the dark floor. A few watched the gruesome display with disinterest while others chose to ignore it in favor or talking quietly amongst themselves.

 “Look at this!“ Bill exclaimed, gesturing towards the screen. "This is just disgraceful. My party’s a real dud right now because of you!”

 "Wow,“ Ford said sarcastically as he watched one demon awkwardly sidestep away from the rapidly growing blue puddle. "What a shame.”

 "I know!“ Bill said as the video feed turned to static and the screen shifted back into a bow tie. "It’s not fair to them and it’s certainly not fair to me!”

 Bill’s voice took on a somber tone as he removed his hat and fiddled with the brim.

 "We’re just trying to have a good time, expand our horizons, maybe wreak a little havoc along the way. There’s nothing wrong with that! And here you sit, being thoughtlessly cruel and holding back the crucial information we need to achieve our dreams. Dreams that are almost within our reach.“

 Bill made a show of dramatically lifting one hand ahead of him to grasp at the air.

 "What about all the people whose lives you’re trying to destroy?” Ford asked disdainfully.

 "What about them?“ Bill set the hat back where it belonged on his highest point. "I mean, human lives are just a tiny blip on the cosmic scale of things. You guys only live up to, what? Seventy, eighty years? Do you worry about how a dust mite feels when you toss your crusty sheets in the laundry?”

 Bill laughed and Ford’s temper flared once again, scowl crossing his features.

 "Uh oh, there’s that sour look again!“ Bill said teasingly, reaching out and pinching Ford’s cheek.

 Ford snarled and gripped Bill’s wrist before shoving it away from him.

 "Don’t. Touch. Me.” He said, venom lacing each word. 

 Bill paused before laughing and yanking his hand away from Ford’s hold. He reached out and quickly ruffled the man’s hair, pulling away before Ford could retaliate.

 "You’re cute, Sixer. Real cute. I guess thirty years of dimension hopping made you forget our little deal, huh?“

 "What deal? Any deal we made in the past is over.” Ford spat.

 "Nope, doesn’t work that way! You gave me access to your mind so by extension you gave _yourself_ to me, Stanford. 'From now until the end of time’ remember? An annoying piece of metal in your skull doesn’t change that. The only thing that stupid thing ever did was stop me from controlling your body- which is pretty much pointless now! I don’t need to hijack some schmuck’s flesh suit to interact with this world anymore.“

 Bill emphasized his point by flicking Ford in the nose. The thin thread holding Ford back finally snapped and the man swung a fist out, clocking Bill right in the eye.

 A short cry of pain escaped the demon and a wave of panic hit Ford’s chest when he realized what he had done. Before he had time to react, a violent tug on the chain had him slamming hard against the wall behind him.

 Ford coughed and choked as the collar pressed forcibly against his throat.

 "You’re a real piece of work, you know that?” Bill’s voice reverberated off the walls, low and oozing with barely contained rage.

 Ford looked up to see him floating several inches from his face, gold light now a deep red.

 "I-“ Ford’s words were caught in his throat as an unseen force pulled him forward before roughly slamming him back against the wall. Ford shouted as his shoulder blades collided painfully against the stone.

 "For someone so smart you’re incredibly stupid.”

 Ford was slammed once more, knocking the wind out of him.

 "What part of “ _you gave yourself to me_ ” do you not understand? You are mine, Stanford Pines. Every part of you is mine. Your body, your mind, your soul.“

 Ford struggled to catch his breath, squinting his eyes open at the demon before him. 

 "You’re mine to do whatever I want with. I mean, look at yourself!” Bill laughed. “You even branded yourself with my image. And the collar really does complete the look, doesn’t it?”

 Ford felt a pressure on his chest, his forehead, his stomach. It held him firmly against the wall and he found he couldn’t even turn his head. He was forced to stare directly into Bill’s glinting eye.

 "You’re just making things harder for yourself. What do I have to do to get you to see eye to eye with me?“

 Ford grunted as he struggled against the force that held him in place but it was no use. He wasn’t able to move.

 Bill watched him for a moment in thought. Several seconds passed before his eye widened suddenly as an idea struck him. A high, mirthful laugh echoed off the walls as his body shifted from red back to its normal gold.

 “Oh, Fordsy. I know just the thing to drive the point home.”

 Bill reached one hand forward to gently hold the side of Ford’s face, fingers lightly petting the stubble along his jaw. His other hand pulled Ford’s glasses off and carelessly tossed them to the side with a small clatter. The man scowled and squinted his eyes slightly as the finer details of his surroundings were lost. 

 Ford opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted as two fingers suddenly rammed into his left eye.

 The pain was sudden and sharp. An scream of agony tore through Ford’s throat and he scrabbled at Bill’s arm, desperately trying to push him away but to no avail. Bill's claws ripped the soft skin of his eyelid and dug beneath the eyeball. Blood and ocular fluid dripped down Ford’s face as Bill hooked and twisted his fingers deep in the eye socket, haphazardly slicing the muscles and disconnecting the optic nerve. Ford screamed once again as the demon swiftly drew his hand back, pulling the mangled eye out with a sickening squelch.

 Ford cried out as he pressed his hand against his now empty eye socket. The whole left side of his face was on fire and he felt blood seep out between his fingers. He fell forward as the pressure holding him in place released him, curses tearing out his throat.

 "Wow, that was so _satisfying_. I really needed that!” Bill said, pulling the bloody eyeball off the tips of his claws and rolling it between two fingers. “This one’s definitely going in the collection.”

 A blue flame engulfed the eye before it disappeared from Bill’s palm.

 Ford curled in on himself, body shaking violently. Bill reached down to run a hand through the man’s greasy hair.

 "Hey now, quit your blubbering.“ Bill said as he lowered both hands to cup the man’s face. "You can still see can’t you? All did was even the playing field. So you should have no problem seeing eye to eye with me now!”

 Ford had no fight left in him. He allowed Bill to tilt his face upwards and the demon pried Ford’s hand from his empty socket. His eyelid was shredded and hung limply over the hole. A sob escaped Ford’s throat.

 Bill hushed him, wiping the blood off his face and catching a trickle that leaked from his wound. Ford shuddered in pain. 

 "Look on the bright side,“ Bill chuckled. "We match now. Isn’t that just special?”

 Ford trembled as he broke down, tears streaming from his good eye. All the while Bill held his face gently, hands stroking his skin as he watched the man’s last shred of dignity crumble to dust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ouch


	4. Chapter 4

 It had been a year since he and Bill began their partnership and it was the best decision Ford has ever made.

 The unshakable rut he was stuck in regarding the investigation of Gravity Falls gradually lifted as Bill offered his assistance- but it wasn’t as easy as Ford would have liked.

 He quickly found that Bill would almost never give a straight answer to any of the man’s pressing questions. Instead, he opted to leave vague clues, drop hints in conversation that upon dissection would reveal the answer he was looking for. Anything that Ford wanted to know was a puzzle that he’d have to solve first and Bill was a bottomless reservoir of cryptic riddles.

 At first Ford was frustrated by this, asking Bill why he couldn’t just tell him what he wanted to know. Bill laughed and simply asked him where the fun in that was. “The most exciting part about solving a mystery isn’t the answer itself, but the process it takes to get to the answer!”

 Ford understood the reasoning behind that but he still wished his friend would be a little more straightforward. But at the end of the day, what could he expect from a creature so disposed to games and riddles?

 And boy, did Bill love playing games. 

 When they weren’t working, they’d spend hours playing together. Chess, cards, rithmomachy, even badminton on an occasion. Ford once suggested DD & More D and that was quickly added to their array of regularly played games much to his delight.

 It wasn’t long until Ford considered Bill to be his best friend. Bill was his teacher, his partner, and most of all someone who Ford could trust with anything. He was always understanding, always quick to praise him whenever he made a new discovery or solved a new puzzle. Bill made Ford feel important, amazing, special. Like he could do anything.

 And all that positive acknowledgment coming from someone so  _ significant _ and so vastly intelligent, it meant everything to him. He admired Bill and Ford figured it was safe to say the feeling was mutual. What with the way Bill would casually pat Ford’s shoulder with a crinkle in his eye and a praise on his (metaphorical) tongue when he’d successfully solve a particularly hard equation. 

 Or the quiet moments when Bill would run an affectionate hand through Ford’s wavy hair, making the man’s chest swell and lips quirk into a soft smile. During those moments Bill’s hands would occasionally stray from his hair to the sides of his face, sometimes moving further down to gently stroke the exposed skin of his neck. Once in awhile he’d even dip his fingers beneath the collar of Ford’s shirt and brush the pads of his fingers against his shoulders or collar bones. 

 His muse was particularly handsy, but not unpleasantly so. There was a small thrill that accompanied the attention that Bill gave him and Ford secretly loved it.

 It was a balmy spring afternoon and Ford sat at his reading desk, scribbling notes into the second volume of his journal. A warm breeze wafted through the open window, slightly ruffling the numerous papers he had scattered over the mahagony. He briefly regarded the creature he recently captured (one he appropriately named “the cycloptopus”) sulking in its tank. Its body undulated slightly as its singular eye glared back at him. It whipped a tentacle out, slapping it against the glass with a dull thunk before curling in on itself.

 Ford watched it for a moment before returning to his notes. He had found the creature moving along the shore of Lake Gravity Falls, sand completely covering its muculent body. Ford almost hadn’t seen it due to how well it blended in with its surroundings but there was no missing its large, swiveling eye.

 Although it was hostile and surprisingly difficult to catch, he finally had the creature in his possession for study.

 He leaned back in his seat and idly rubbed his chin as he reviewed what he wrote, feeling the light stubble scratch against his fingertips. There was only so much you can learn from keeping a single specimen captive. He wasn’t able to find another one of its kind so information as far as social or mating behaviors were still a mystery. Maybe he could ask Bill what he knows about the creature (and no doubt get an ambiguous answer in response).

 Ford figured it might be easier to figure this one out on his own. Afterall, he can’t reasonably count on Bill to help him with everything. Maybe that’s why Bill remained so cryptic; to challenge him and keep him on his toes. Otherwise he might become too reliant on him.

 Besides, Ford was sure Bill would be impressed with him learning everything about this creature without his assistance. He could almost hear his muse’s encouraging words in his head, feel his hands brush against his rough jaw and-

 Ford paused, his own hand pressing against the side of his face. He’d been unconsciously mimicking what Bill so often did to him and felt momentarily embarrassed. But his hand remained where it was, calloused and dissimilar to Bill’s soft, small ones. Regardless, Ford closed his eyes and allowed himself the indulgence of running his fingertips against his jaw and up to his cheekbone.

 He imagined Bill being the one providing the light touches and he sighed softly. _ Smart guy. Brainiac. You did such a wonderful job. _

 He smiled and his face heated up at the memory of the various compliments Bill gave him. It felt so good to be recognized and appreciated by someone so remarkable, so extraordinary. A being who had influenced many great minds throughout the course of human history- and Bill was sure to make Ford know how great of a mind he really had.

 Ford absentmindedly brought his fingers down and brushed them against the corner of his mouth. He hesitated for a second before slowly grazing the line of his lips. Bill had never touched them before but the thought of him doing so made his heart flutter in a strange way. 

 It wasn’t uncommon for Bill’s touches to flit back and forth between the line of casual and intimate and in this moment, Ford couldn’t help but entertain the idea of them straying more towards the latter.

 Suddenly the mental image of himself, shirt parted open to allow Bill’s hands to explore his chest came to mind. He imagined dark hands gliding over his collar bones down to his pecs, his sides, his belly. His back would arch under his touch, silently begging for more and Bill would oblige by sliding his fingers under the waistband of his pants and-

 Ford pulled his hand away from his mouth, suddenly mortified with the direction his idle thoughts had taken him.. He spared a glance at the cycloptopus resting in its tank. The creature stared straight back at him and for a moment Ford was hit with the absurd notion that it could read minds. 

 He loved Bill, there was no doubt about that. He admired him, trusted him. Bill was his friend but it wasn’t until now that he fully realized those feelings may have wandered into a less…platonic territory. It made him feel ashamed, like he was somehow perverting the nature of their partnership.

 But at the end of the day thoughts like that were inconsequential, weren’t they? Thinking too hard about it would just muddy things further. So he wouldn’t. It’s not like he’d never had similar thoughts about a small number of friends he had in the past- friends he never had any real romantic attraction to in the first place. It’s only natural to toy with ideas like that especially if you’re in a close relationship, platonic or otherwise. But despite all this, Ford somehow was still unconvinced with himself.

 He was already breaking his set boundary of overthinking this.

 He turned his gaze once more towards the cyclotopus who was now sending up small clouds of dark sand inside the tank with an occasional harsh flick of its tentacles. It continued to stare at him through the thin, dirty haze and Ford made a mental note to test it for possible mind reading capabilities.

-

 Ford’s eye socket was a gaping mess of torn, wet flesh. The interior was feverishly hot and the pain seemed to spread to the rest of his head in throbbing waves.

 Bill had left what was maybe several hours ago according to the grandfather clock in the corner. Although seeing as the clock was prone to moving both forwards and backwards in varying speeds it was in no way reliable. For all Ford knew only an hour could have passed or, perhaps, an entire day. It was hard to tell when all he could think of was the agonizing pain in his skull.

 He kept a hand pressed tightly to the surrounding skin of his socket. He was afraid to leave the wound exposed and thought that applying pressure would make the pain more tolerable. It seemed to work but not by much. He could feel the skin throb beneath his fingers.

 He’d remove his hand once in awhile to let the cool air hit the swelling flesh of his injury. Every time, his palm would come back slick with his own blood and he’d carefully wipe it on his jeans before placing his hand back over his eye. He knew doing that was in no way sanitary but he had very little to work with.

 He had no antiseptics, no water to wash it out with let alone to drink. His dry mouth tasted of acid and copper; a reminder of the first and only “meal” Bill had (quite literally) forced down his throat. 

 He sat with his back towards the fireplace, letting the heat of the flames warm his chilled body. The room was silent save for the crackle of the fire and the ticking of the grandfather clock. His mind felt slow and his entire body was heavy with exhaustion. He wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep but he couldn’t risk Bill invading his dreams again. Not after last time.

 He shivered and scooted his back closer to the fire, removing his hand from his socket. He rested his arms on his knees and stared blankly ahead, his aching stomach grumbling loudly. He tentatively licked his chapped lips and lowered his chin onto his forearms. Inconsistent half thoughts began to form through his hazy mind like a dream.

 Bill’s irritating laugh. His old home (now with a large sign over the roof dubbing the place “The Mystery Shack.” The blue-tinged vapor that continuously emits from a certain subterranean flower found in Dimension 52. His niece inspecting his six-fingered hand with a look of delight and curiosity on her round face. The bent and broken limbs of a dead cat. 

 He felt numb, physically and emotionally. The lid of Ford’s remaining eye drooped as he found it harder and harder to stay awake. He was getting too comfortable but found he had little energy to bother changing his position. He wouldn’t fall asleep as long as he willed himself not to, he was sure of it. 

 He thought of the shy glances and stammering voice of his nephew the first few days of their meeting. The look of panic and terror on Stanley’s face as Ford was pulled into the portal. His own eye clutched between Bill’s bloody fingers. The smell of syrupy pancakes.

 Several minutes passed before he felt something shift within his eye socket. It was light, barely perceptible but Ford jolted at the sensation. He waited a moment but when the feeling didn’t repeat itself, he dismissed it as his imagination. He was sleep deprived and in a lot of pain; his perceptions were bound to be skewed.

 But those previous notions were tossed out the window the moment he felt it again seconds later. A small spasm deep inside the wound. Ford twitched and slapped a hand over his eye socket, flinching at the hard contact his hand made with the swollen flesh surrounding it. He could feel something moving. There was no mistaking it now.

 Something was inside.

 The pain increased to an excruciating level and Ford let out a small cry, heart pounding as the movement continued. Something was inside his eye socket, something was moving around _ inside. _

 Ford released his hand from his face and threw his head forward. He could feel it, whatever it was. Each motion caused a sharp stab of pain deep in his skull and he gritted his teeth. He shook his head in a vain attempt to dislodge whatever was inside, but it was no use.

 Panic slowly began to bubble in his gut but he forced it down, taking deep breaths. He kept his face pointed towards the floor. The thought of reaching into his eye socket came to mind but he knew doing that would be ill-advised. Another intense stab of pain shot through his head and he sobbed weakly. What else could he do?

 Ford brought a trembling hand to his face, trying hard not to think of how long it had been since they were last washed. He used his thumb and forefinger to carefully hold open the torn skin of his eyelid, wincing as they pressed against the inflamed flesh. 

 He brought his other hand to the socket, working up the courage to reach inside. This was a terrible, awful idea but the pain was unbearable and he couldn’t let whatever was in there to remain where it was. He took a few shuddering breaths, preparing himself. He slowly pushed the tip of his finger inside his eye socket, being careful not to touch the mangled interior. Ford could feel the sickly heat radiating from his wound.

 Another stab of pain hit him and he instinctively flinched, causing his finger to hit the bloody internal flesh. He cried out at the severe stinging the contact caused and quickly removed his finger. A loud curse tore out his throat as he slammed his closed fist against the stone floor. Another twitch came from within his wound and he wasn’t sure if he could will himself to try again.

 A minute passed before he forced himself to pull his eyelid open once more. After much hesitation he brought his finger inside, using all his willpower to keep his hand steady this time. A bead of sweat dripped from his temple and he gritted his teeth as his finger lightly brush against the wet interior. The small contact made his wound burn awfully but he had to continue. There was no going back now.

 Ford could almost pinpoint where the thing was located. He felt a jerk along the bottom wall and a low groan of pain rumbled in his throat. He had to do this quickly. After some careful probing he felt his finger brush against something. When the action provided no pain, he knew he had found it. 

 He took a sharp breath and curled his finger inward, dragging the thing further out. A sharp pain shot through his wound and he yelped, pulling his hands away on impulse before he could completely remove what he had found. It was still inside but just barely and it flickered wildly behind the skin of his eyelid.

 Revulsion crawled up Ford’s spine and all sense of good judgement was lost as he desperately pushed his finger past the thin, shredded skin. He found almost it immediately. He hooked his finger against the thing once more and pulled it completely out, shouting as his nail accidentally scratched soft flesh.

 His eye socket felt as though it were on fire and one cursory glance to what he had just pulled out of his head was enough to have him reeling. He jerked his wrist, flinging the thing off his fingers and onto the floor.

 It was a maggot. A relatively large, bloody maggot that writhed against the dark stone. A sudden bout of dizziness struck Ford as he covered his gaping socket with the palm of his hand. A maggot,  _ a maggot _ . How could it have gotten there? His heart hammered and the world around him seemed to wear thin around the edges.

_  Can’t be real _ , he thought dimly and it made sense now that he had thought it. There was a disconnection from himself, his body, his surroundings. The sharp pain he had felt before was now nothing but a dull throb and the blood on his fingers were no longer his own.

 A strange, inexplicable calmness washed over him despite his own heart pounding rapidly in his chest. Upon a whim, he pinched the flesh of his arm as hard as he could. He barely felt it. He was dreaming, none of this was real.

 But with dreams came Bill and he was surely nearby. Upon that thought came the prickling sensation of being watched. Bill was close, there was no doubt about that, but why hadn’t he shown himself yet? A faint inkling of anxiety fluttered in Ford’s belly and the inside of his eye socket itched.

 He waited a moment, all the while his nervousness steadily forming into dread. If he could somehow will himself awake like he did before…but his mind felt as if it were only functioning at half capacity. If he were asleep why did he still feel so tired?

 A while longer he waited, head buzzing and skin numb. He was floating, the room turning slowly on an axis. Minutes passed and his apprehension dissolved into confusion, then to frustration as Bill remained elusive.

 “Bill,” he heard someone say and it took all of two seconds for him to realize it came from himself. There was no doubt Bill was doing this intentionally; making Ford wait and expect and dread his arrival, all the while lurking just outside the visible realm of his dreamscape. 

 Bill was here and he knew it.

 Ford called his name once more, attempting to sound stern and unaffected but how well he managed to pull that off was something he couldn’t determine. No response came, the only sound being the crackle of the burning wood at his back.

 Something else was at his back as well. It tapped against the base of his spine, causing Ford’s nerves to alight in shock. A startled yelp escaped him as he jolted forward and turned, not missing the black arm extending from the obsidian floor. It contrasted sharply against the light of flames in the fireplace and waved jovially at him upon his noticing.

 A second arm grew from below, several inches alongside the first and both hands braced themselves on the stone. With a quick push, Bill Cipher fully phased himself up and out through the floor.

 “Woo, haha! Hello again, Fordsy! What a pleasure it is to see your ugly, squishy face again.” 

 “Bill!” Ford exclaimed. His tongue felt thick and heavy in his mouth.

 “The one and only!” Bill said cheerily, planting his hands on his sides. “Aside from all the other Bills in all the other countless dimensions in the vast multiverse but, eh, you get the idea.”

 “What do you want?” Ford asked and he realized how dumb the question was as soon as he had asked it. His mind felt as if it were in a fog and Bill’s presence was beginning to make his skin crawl.

 Bill’s sudden laughter rang against the walls, grating against Ford’s ears like nails on a chalkboard. It felt as if his head were just moments away from splitting open and Ford had to resist the urge to cover his ears.

 “Oh, you’re hilarious.” Bill said, thankfully quieting down. “I mean, isn’t it obvious at this point what _ I _ want? Was that somehow not clear to you?” 

 Bill eyed the man seriously and Ford realized in hindsight that the looming threat of Bill’s arrival driving him mad would have been preferable to his actual presence doing the same thing. 

 “But that’s besides the point right now considering it was  _ you _ who called for me.” Bill continued. “I know I’m a bit late but you can’t expect me to come immediately running at your beck and call. I’m a busy guy!

 “Anyway, I should be the one asking what it is  _ you _ want.” Bill planted himself cross-legged on the floor and looked up at Ford expectedly. “Were you missing me already?”

 “No-”

 “Or better yet,” Bill interrupted, leaning forward slightly. “Are you ready to tell me about that annoying force field?”

 “No!” Ford said heatedly. “I want to know what’s going on. Am I asleep right now?”

 Bill stared at Ford for a short moment, expression unreadable.

 “Hm, nope! Why? Do you feel asleep?” Bill asked.

 “Stop playing games with me. What are you trying to do?” Ford felt a tickle deep within his eye socket but his focus remained on Bill. The feeling didn’t return.

 “I’m not trying to do anything right now.” Bill chuckled. “Except wonder why you’re acting like such a paranoid wreck. Is the pressure getting to you already?”

 Bill seemed excited by the idea but an unease settled in Ford’s stomach. This was a dream, wasn’t it? Either he was losing his mind or Bill was tricking him, pulling the strings in just the right way to make it seem like he was losing his mind.

 He briefly eyed the spot where the maggot was tossed only to find it missing. The sudden urge to scratch the soft internal flesh of his wound was overwhelming. 

 Bill kicked himself up from his spot on the ground and reached out to hold the man’s jaw between his small, dark hands. Ford’s face tingled unpleasantly where Bill touched but he didn’t dare move away. His anxiety increased tenfold and he wondered where that maggot went.

 “You’re not looking so good.” Bill said, a hint of barely concealed mirth in his voice. Ford shivered.

 “What are you trying to do?” Ford muttered, making an effort to keep his breathing steady. 

 “Just looking, relax.” Bill tilted Ford’s head slightly to get a better look at his wound. Dried, flaking blood clung to the swollen flesh surrounding it. 

 Ford felt Bill’s fingers lightly pet his stubble as he inspected his eye and suddenly hands were all over his body, vicious claws pressing against his flesh. He shouted and jumped back, pulling himself away from Bill’s harsh grasp, and swatted at the hands that were-

 No longer there.

 Bill stared down at him, single eye widened in surprise.

 “Jeez, what’s got you all jumpy?” Bill asked.

 “Stay away from me.” Ford choked. His skin prickled and he felt the ghost of fingers on his flesh, of a thousand eyes staring, of being ripped open-

 But he was intact. There were no hands and only one slitted eye was on him.

 Several seconds passed before Bill opened his arms in what seemed to be a welcoming gesture. To Ford the action was anything but.

 “Oh Fordsy…” Bill crooned. “Come here.”

 “N-no.” Ford croaked. This was all too much. “No, I don’t- please.”

 He was trembling and a bead of sweat dripped down his spine. He internally screamed at himself to be calm, to be rational. But all sense of rationality was quickly replaced with the urge to get away, to run, to fight but-

 “Stanford.” Bill said, an inkling of danger in his otherwise cheerful voice. “Come over here.”

 There was no escape. Disobeying wasn't an option. He hesitantly shifted himself forward and Bill laid his hands over the man’s greasy, matted hair.

 "My human,” Bill murmured in a soothing manner, but the underlying mockery in his voice was apparent. “My poor, little human. You’ve been cooped up in here for too long, haven’t you?”

 Bill’s fingers carefully picked at the knots in Ford’s hair, slowly untangling them. Goosebumps pricked the flesh of his arms and his body remained tense in preparation for whatever Bill had planned for him.

 “I haven’t been giving you enough attention, huh? Is that what you want? My awful, clingy little human. I leave you alone for too long and you get all twitchy and start shoving your vile digits in places they don’t belong.”

 A black hand moved from Ford’s hair down to the side of his face, fingers grazing the swollen flesh near his temple. Pain flared at the light contact and Ford winced, resisting the compulsion to turn his head away.

 He wished Bill would stop touching him.

 “Maybe you just need to step out for a bit. You must have been pretty lonely lately, huh? How would you feel about meeting some of my friends?”

 The mention of Bill’s friends made Ford’s blood run cold. ‘ _ My friends could have their turn.’ _ He found himself shaking his head rapidly.

 “No? You know that’s awfully rude of you, Sixer, especially since a few of them have been asking about you. They seem pretty eager to meet the human that’s responsible for keeping them trapped in this stupid town. And who am I to deny them that honor?”

_  ‘...love to tear you open.’ _ Ford inhaled shakily. Bill absentmindedly dragged the pads of his fingers against the bruised, scabbed skin of the man’s neck, tracing the line where collar met flesh. ‘ _ In more ways than one.’ _

 “Buuut…if you’re feeling too shy I know exactly what you can do to avoid any of those potentially awkward social interactions you nerd types are always so afraid of. And I really don’t think I need to explain what that is to you.”

 Of course not. That’s the whole reason why he was here wasn't he? And how easy would it be to just give in, to just tell Bill what he wanted to know and end this?

 It wasn’t worth it, though. It would never be worth it, but what would he give in this moment to lessen his pain? Ford had been weak to flattery in the past and that was one trait he knew he shared with Bill.

 Ford lifted a shaking hand to Bill’s own, pulling it away from the stinging skin of neck to the front of his face. He swallowed whatever miniscule piece of pride left in him to leave a lingering kiss on Bill’s knuckles. 

 “Bill,” Ford murmured. He almost didn’t recognize his own voice. “Please don’t do this.”

 Bill remained silent and Ford couldn't bring himself to spare a glance at him. Everything was unreal and his actions felt as if they weren’t his own. He brought his other hand up and against Bill’s wrist. He turned the demon’s hand over and left another small kiss on the palm of his hand.

 “What do you think you’re doing, Stanford?” Bill asked, but he made no move to stop him. Ford could feel Bill watching him and an uneasiness crawled up his spine. He pressed his lips once more onto Bill’s fingers. 

 Ford heard a soft hum from above as Bill’s other hand came to rest in Ford’s hair again, lightly scratching the man’s scalp.

 “Fordsy,” Bill began, “You know just what I like, don’t you?”

 The hand on Ford’s head traveled down to the nape of his neck. The man’s entire body was ice.

 “But as nice as this feels, I can’t help but think you have ulterior motives. Do you really think I can’t see through you?”

 Ford felt the hand on his bruised neck tightened and he flinched.

 “Trying to butter me up? Trying to play the sympathy card? Please, you’re looking at the grand master of manipulation, Stanford. I have to admit though, it was a decent attempt! You looked very cute so kudos on that.”

 Bill removed his hand from Ford’s weak grasp and gripped the thick chain dangling below his collar. With a wave of his other hand the length that kept Ford tethered to the wall dissipated until about two feet of chain was left. 

 Bill wrapped its length once around his hand and gave it a sharp tug. Ford cried out and nearly fell forward as the collar struck his tender neck.

 “Come on, it’s time to go on a walk!” Bill laughed, yanking the chain once again. “Let’s get you some fresh air.”

 Ford hissed in pain as the collar chafed against his skin. He glared up at Bill, remaining eye narrowed in hatred.

 “Fuck you,” He spat. His head throbbed and the pain in his eye socket was maddening. “You piece of shit, you fucking-”

 Ford was interrupted by a punishing blow delivered to the swollen flesh at the side of his face. 

 “That’s enough of that now,” Bill said heatedly. “I’m not playing with you.  _ Get moving.” _

 If the pain in his head had been agonizing before it was nothing compared to the way it felt now. Bill pulled the chain and Ford sobbed helplessly as he braced his hands against the floor. 

 “I’ll drag you out of this room if I have to, Stanford.” Bill said. “Stand up.”

 Ford didn’t think he could. His limbs felt like jelly and he could think of almost nothing but the miserable, stabbing pain in his skull. He told himself to wake up but it was safe to assume this wasn’t a dream anymore. Had it ever been a dream? He couldn’t remember ever waking up.

 “Stanford.” Bill warned and Ford snapped back to reality.

 “I can’t stand.” Ford whimpered and he hated how pathetic he sounded. “I can’t stand up.”

 “Then crawl, I don’t care.” Bill said, annoyance clear in his voice.

 “I’m not going t-AAH!”

 Bill had tugged the chain forward, patience gone and already setting out towards the open door. The length of it was pulled taut and Ford stifled the scream that threatened to rise from his chest- from either rage or physical suffering, he couldn’t tell. 

 He crawled. He crawled like an animal in Bill’s wake and he couldn’t believe it had gotten to this point. His limbs wobbled beneath him.

 “That’s more like it, Fordsy!” Bill said, previous discontent waning. “You look great like that. Gives me a wonderful view of that tattoo of yours.”

 Ford said nothing. There was nothing he could say. The trek from his spot by the fireplace to the large door was arduous and by the time he had reached it, he wanted nothing more than to curl on his side and rest but that was something he knew Bill wouldn’t allow.

 Ford grabbed the doorframe and lifted himself to his shaky knees. The chain jerked his head forward as Bill continued to move, unbeknownst to Ford’s stopping and the man nearly lost his balance.

 “Wait.” Ford called, leaning his weight against the doorframe. His breath came out in heavy puffs.

 Bill turned around, crossing his arms and tapping an impatient foot in the air.

 “What is it now?” He asked. “You’re coming out of there whether you like it or not.”

 “Please, just...let me try to stand.” Ford carefully shifted his leg to plant a foot on the floor, all the while keeping his body steady against the doorframe. He used what strength he had left to pull with his arms and push with his leg until he managed to get both feet on the ground.

 He slowly straightened himself up, thankful that Bill had at least allowed him this. The demon began to move again and Ford took a rocky step forward outside the door’s threshold and into the dark hallway.

 He dreaded what was to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> party time


	5. Chapter 5

 The sudden change in temperature from the suite to the hallway was drastic and unexpected. After being confined in the former for so long (and exactly how long  _ that _ was, he couldn’t say), Ford had grown accustomed to its warmth. With no fire at his back nor a sweater over his bare torso, the chill of the dark hall he was led down prickled his flesh.

 Bill floated ahead of him, thick chain wrapped loosely around his hand and arms dangling lazily below him. The golden glow of his body seemed more prominent without the light of the fireplace to counteract it and the smooth, obsidian walls reflected that gold right back. It almost hurt Ford’s eye.

 “You know, I’ve put a lot of work into constructing this place” Bill said conversationally. “It’s a shame you’ve only got to see such a small part of it but, oh boy, just wait until you see the main foyer! That’s where most of the gang is at and- not to toot my own horn or anything- but the architecture is something else, haha!”

 Ford wasn’t listening. A deep pit had settled like lead in his stomach and it only got heavier with each step he took. He tried not to think what exactly Bill had planned for him, what Bill’s  _ friends  _ had planned for him but that didn’t stop his imagination from running amok. He’d force those thoughts away as soon as they’d form, force his mind to go blank but they would only return with increasing dreadfulness.

 His hands shook. He had never been this terrified in his entire life. He had encountered many atrocious creatures in the past few decades, had narrowly escaped death on multiple occasions with deep scars to show for it, but he could never recall feeling as utterly  _ helpless _ as he did now. There was no relying on his strength nor his wit to pull through this time and that was frightening in its own right. This was something he couldn’t get out of.

 “-troduced you to a few of them before, if you remember. Ha, of course you do! That raucous bunch aren’t the type to  _ not _ leave a lasting impression on-”

 Ford wished Bill would stop talking, at least for a moment. A sharp throb had built behind the space of his remaining eye that only added to the already miserable pain of his torn eye socket. The whole left side of his face practically burned and the sensation had spread to his neck. This in itself was worrying but the current situation pushed whatever concern he had for his wound to the back of his mind.

 They rounded a corner- which wasn’t so much a corner as it was a sharp curve. The wall continued to curve with no change in the steepness of their footing and it seemed as though they were merely walking around a pillar in a circular hallway. Just when it felt they’ve walked the circumference more times than Ford cared to count, the hall gradually straightened back out. All the while Bill chattered on, indifferent to the impossible topography.

 “-hard to get Decarabia to talk about anything other than his stones or herbs. Let me tell you, that guy is a total snore! Now Sabnock on the other hand-”

 Upon reaching a dead end, Bill tilted his body until his front faced the ceiling and began to float up the length of the wall. Ford hesitated, looking up to see that what they reached was not a dead end but an incredibly steep inclination of the same hallway. Experimentally, he pressed his boot against the wall and stumbled as gravity suddenly altered itself. What was once a wall became floor and what was once floor stretched upwards at his back as a wall.

 Ford barely had time to regain his balance before the collar was harshly tugged against his sore neck.

 “No dilly-dallying!” Bill huffed in annoyance. “We’ve got places to be and people to see.”

 Ford’s lip curled and he begrudgingly began to move once again.

 Bill led him through corkscrew halls and down stairs whose number of steps only seemed to increase with each fall of Ford’s foot. They passed a long row of doors, each one in various, irrational sizes and through an empty room that, for some reason, continuously emitted a high pitched whine from seemingly nowhere.

 Just when Ford thought the trip was never going to end, the tell-tale drone of a low bass began to vibrate through the carpeted floor and into his boots. They advanced down the final hall, its high walls adorned with tapestries depicting numerous apocalyptic scenarios. He squinted his eye and his stomach dropped as they approached a set of very large double doors. 

 “Nearly there!” Bill said. “You excited?”

 The bass thrummed heavily through Ford’s chest with increasing intensity the closer they got to their final destination. He wanted nothing more than to turn on his heel and bolt in the opposite direction but he knew doing that would only be futile. There was no escape.

 Bill turned to him as they reached the doors, eyeing him for a short moment.

 “Last chance.” Bill said plainly. He was giving him an out, Ford knew, but it was one he would refuse to take.

 “No.” Ford said. His gaze was steely but he felt as though his resolve would crumble at any moment. “Let’s just get this over with.”

 Bill’s eye crinkled in a smile that was anything but cordial.

 “Stanford, your stubbornness will lead you straight to your grave.” He said. “When it does I’ll be sure to alert your next of kin.”

 On that note Bill turned back to face the doors and with a wave of his hand, they slowly parted with a low creak. The once muffled sound of music became a loud roar of something that could hardly be considered harmonious.

 The interior was about as dimly lit as the rest of the fearamid save for the psychedelic shifting of colors within the spaces of the brick flooring. Bill floated forward, carrying himself in a way that displayed nothing but confidence and Ford had no choice but to follow sullenly behind him.

 The smell was one of the first things to hit him. It was a deep, foul odor; like a combination of animal musk, mildew, and something else Ford couldn’t quite place. He brought a hand to his nose, face twisting in disgust as he could almost _ taste _ the air around him.

 Not far from the entrance stood several moving shapes, their finer details lost without Ford’s glasses, but their outlandish forms were unmissable. Their chatter died down as he and Bill passed them and Ford averted his gaze, a habit of not drawing attention to himself. He kept his eye down, heart racing in his chest and throat tight.

 A loud shriek nearly made him jump out of his skin and he instinctively flinched as something rapidly approached them, footsteps clacking harshly against stone.

 “Aww Bill, you brought your little friend this time!” A high, gravely voice exclaimed.”It’s even cuter than I remembered!”

 Ford turned a wary glance towards the source and was met with the very large, snaggle-toothed grin of some sort of cycloptic monster, one he recognized as one of Bill’s “friends.”

 “Great to see you, Pyronica.” Bill said, tipping his hat deferentially. “You’re looking striking tonight.”

 “HA! ‘Striking’ is one way to put it, sure.” She laughed, waving a flaming hand through the air. “At least you didn’t take the obvious route by calling me ‘fiery’ like someone else might.”

 “Please, what do you take me for? Do you really think I’d be that obvious?” Bill teased.

 “Of course not, of course not. That’s why we love you, Bill.” She delivered a playful punch to the bricks below Bill’s eye, leaving behind a fist-shaped scorch mark. “So your friend’s going to be joining us tonight, huh?”

 Her gaze fell back to Ford and he was unnerved by the strange glint in her eye. It wasn’t unlike the look one would give to a particularly appetizing buffet. Ford looked away, jaw set. 

 “Oh yeah, my little meatbag here was being all antsy and  _ uncooperative.”  _ Bill said, emphasizing his last word with a stern growl. “I figured getting out for a bit and meeting new people should provide him with a...fresh perspective, if you catch my drift.”

 “I see.” Pyronica nodded in understanding and Ford could still feel her hungry gaze on him. “I’m glad you brought him- no disrespect or anything but this party has been, uh, slowly circling the drain. We’re running out of things to smash, people to eat, you know?”

 “Believe me, Py, I know.” Bill said sourly. “And you guys’ll get all that in due time. First we just gotta show Fordsy here a little hospitality. Isn’t that right?”

 Ford stiffened as Bill wrapped an arm around his bare shoulders. A bitter retort formed on his dry tongue but he ultimately kept his mouth shut. He couldn’t make things worse for himself.

 “Haha, well we’ve got plenty  _ hospitality _ to go around that’s for sure.” Pyronica grinned. “We’ll take good care of your cute little friend here.”

 She brushed her fingers over Ford’s grey locks, slightly singing the tips. The faint smell of burning hair tickled his nose.

 “So when can I have fun with him?” She asked eagerly, thankfully pulling her hand away before his hair could catch fire. “I’ve been itching for a new human to play with!”

 “Soon, soon, Py.” Bill said, waving a black hand through the air. “He still needs to be formally introduced to the rest of the gang. Also don’t go hogging him all to yourself; others will want a chance to socialize with our esteemed guest!”

 With that they parted ways, leaving behind a pouting Pyronica. They traversed through the crowd all of which glanced in their direction before quickly moving out of their way. Ford felt dozens of eyes on him, making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

 They approached a massive pedestal, on which sat something that resembled an enormous throne. Whatever it was constructed of was lost in the blurriness of Ford’s vision. He squinted his eye but it was only until they had reached the foot of the pedestal that Ford was able to make out those odd shapes.

 They were people. Thousands of people piled and arranged into an imposing human throne, their faces twisted into expressions of horror and agony. Ford’s stomach dropped, remaining eye widening at the abhorrent sight. Guilt struck him like a truck and he felt as if he were going to throw up.

 This was all his fault.

 Bill faced the crowd, making a sound as if clearing his throat (despite not having one) and addressed the large group ahead with a flourish of his hand.

 “Hello, hello! Ladies, gentlemen, interdimensional terrors, abyssal nightmares, freaks of mysterious origin! I’m sure many of you are aware of our, heh, little predicament involving a certain barrier keeping us locked in this hick town. Now I’ve been receiving a lot of complaints about this. I know, I know, it’s a mess and it’s something I’ve been working to resolve with my good pal here for quite some time now-”

 Ford hardly payed attention to Bill’s words, instead focusing his attention on searching the throne for any familiar faces. They had to be okay, they couldn’t have gotten captured, they had to be safe.

 “Some of you are already aware of this but Sixer here knows how to lower it! The problem is he’s too much of a stubborn worm that doesn’t understand the consequences of his actions. We all just want to have fun and he’s blatantly ruining that for us and not making things easy.”

 Ford’s eye frantically passed from face to face, none of whom he recognized.

 “All he needs is a little  _ convincing _ . If he won’t respond to me, I’m sure you all can kick him in the right direction. Literally.”

 Ford barely registered the group’s laughter and jeering voices. He felt dizzy and sick to his stomach.

 “So Sixer, meet the massive hoard of angry monstrosities! Angry monstrosities, meet Sixer! Have fun!”

 Bill gripped Ford’s shoulder, turning him away from the throne before placing a hand on his back and roughly shoving him into the crowd. Ford stumbled and smacked against a thick wall of flesh before being violently shoved back. He collapsed onto the hard stone floor, hissing in pain as the crowd drew near, the blurry details of their bodies gaining definition the closer they got. But he had no time nor desire to take in their grotesque forms.

 He scrabbled backwards on instinct, kicking at whoever was near. A cacophony of laughter rang in his ears as he was quickly surrounded. The air was hot and smelled sour. 

 A beast loomed over him and he blindly swung out his arm, fist knocking against something that felt disturbingly like wet meat. He heard a low snarl as something tightly grasped his wrist and forced it onto the floor.

 A harsh kick in the side had him wheezing and he struggled to regain control of his breathing. A pair of hands grabbed his hair and forcefully rammed his head onto the ground. A sickening crack echoed in his skull and his vision flashed white upon impact.

 Ford tried to push himself up but to no avail. Two pairs of hands pressed firmly down on his chest as a dozen more reached for him. Claws tore at the soft flesh of his belly and he screamed in agony. Fingers dug their way inside his wounds, cutting through fat and muscle before pulling the flesh apart.

 His skin ripped and Ford thought his vocal cords would break with how hard he was screaming. He could do nothing but watch in terror as his intestines were roughly pulled out of his body, wet and steaming. Dark red blood ran down his sides and pooled beneath him.

 A creature snatched a rope of small intestine from another's hand with its needle-like maw and bit through the soft tissue. Others had fallen suit, scrabbling inside Ford's belly and tearing their teeth into his organs and biting the split flesh along his sides.

 In his panicked haze, a brief image of that cat flashed through his mind. The slit in its belly spilling its guts onto the black stone. Blood leaking from its mouth, it's empty eye sockets.  _ No eyes. _ The feeling of its organs slipping down his throat and the coppery taste of blood and-

 His vision blackened around the edges. Oh god, he was going to die. He was dying, he was being  _ eaten alive. _

 A numbness washed over him. The last thing he saw before his vision darkened completely was something digging its teeth into the bloody flesh of his chest.

 Then nothing.

.

.

.

 Ford’s body jolted and his nerves were alight before the feeling disappeared as quickly as it came. His breath came out in hard puffs and his singular eye darted wildly around, body freezing when he saw he was still surrounded. Dozens of eyes stared down at him, glinting in mirth. A few laughed and many chattered amongst themselves, their words jumbled as they talked over one another.

 He felt blood sticking to his back and seeping into his pants. A quick once over of his body revealed that, despite all the blood left on him, he was mysteriously intact. No gashes, his organs presumably where they should be.

 Ford jumped at the sound of Bill's unmistakable high-pitched laugh cutting through the clamoring voices of the crowd.

 "Welcome back to the party!" Bill said, floating above the group. "I know you're not as young as you used to be but that's no excuse for dozing off in the middle of entertaining guests. It's a party not an old folk's home, you dig?"

 "What the hell is going on?" Ford yelled but the crowd's laughter drowned out his voice.

 "Sorry, didn't catch that!" Bill called. "You're going to have to speak up!"

 Ford growled but before he could say anything, something slammed heavily onto his face and an audible  _ crunch _ echoed through his skull. He cried out, grabbing his face in his hands and feeling his bent and bleeding nose.

 “Woah, 8-Ball, nice left hook you got there!” Bill cackled. “Why don’t you give him another.”

 A rush of air from another swung fist brushed against Ford’s face but he managed to pull away before contact was made. Something hooked its fingers into his collar and yanked him forward until he found himself face to face with that cycloptic woman from earlier.

 “Me again, sweetheart,” She said, grin spreading over her massive face. “Don’t be lookin’ so down when you can be lookin’ so  _ up! _ ”

 With that she lifted him from the ground with a single hand, choking him as the metal band around his neck constricted tightly against his bruised throat. He squirmed in her grasp, instinctively grabbing her wrist for leverage and searing the palms of his hands on her flaming skin. He screamed, blood from his nose dripping into his mouth.

 “Didn’t your human mama ever teach you not to go sticking your hands on hot things!” She teased, releasing him and he crumpled painfully to the floor. She pressed her heel sharply onto his side and he winced.

 “Stop,” He groaned, body trembling violently. His mouth tasted like blood.

 “Stop? Oh honey, we are just getting started!” She dug her heel harder onto him and he could actually feel it pierce his flesh. He thrashed, desperately scrabbling at the ground to get away until someone stamped their foot hard on his hand, shattering the delicate bones.

 “GOD- o-oh god!” He sobbed. He was surrounded from all sides and there was no hope of getting away. They bore down on him, stomping, tearing, biting until his vision slowly began to darken once more. Death approached.

 Then everything was black once more.

.

.

.

 A sudden light stung his eye and his entire body was aflame. The sensation died down quickly but was immediately replaced with an overwhelming  _ agony.  _ Something had its fingers shoved into his eye socket, pulling and scratching at the hot interior and a howl of pain ripped through Ford’s throat.

 “WHY, why, why, WHY, WHY” He chanted mindlessly. Oh god, someone help,  _ someone stop this. What was happening? _

 “You know why, smart guy!” Bill shouted over the crowd, drifting over to land on top of Ford’s heaving chest. “Isn’t this just a blast? Wouldn’t it be great if this party just lasted  **_forever._ ** ”

 Bill’s voice rumbled at that last word and Ford felt as if his entire body had been dunked in ice. The fingers in his eye were removed and he caught a glimpse of his own blood on sand-colored claws. He couldn’t breathe.

 “But it doesn’t have to last forever- not for you at least.” Bill added. “It’s not too late to tell me what I need to know!”

 Ford’s body convulsed as he began to sob brokenly. No, no, never. Not ever.

 “Hey, knock that off- you’re embarrassing yourself.” Bill said sternly. “I need an answer from you, Sixer. What’s it going to be?”

 Bill gripped Ford’s chin between two fingers, eye staring deep into his own. He felt a trickle of blood leak from his socket and down his cheek.

_  “How do we  _ **_get out of here?_ ** _ ” _

 “You don’t.” Ford croaked suddenly. His throat was sandpaper. “You won’t. Ever. You’re never leaving Gravity Falls.”

 A silence pervaded the air, severe and imposing. Ford heard his own heart thump loudly in his ears.

 “Then I guess neither will you.” Bill released his jaw and backed away, eye narrowed in rage. ”You know what to do, fellas.”

 And with that the monsters were back on him; blurs of jagged teeth and groping hands tearing at his belly, his throat, his face. Knocking the air from his lungs and spilling his blood onto the cold floor.

 Over the horde he caught a glimpse of the towering throne and a miserable thought crossed his panic-addled mind.

_  He was the cause of it. He deserved this. _

 It wasn’t long before his vision went black again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hell


	6. Chapter 6

He followed Fiddleford out the basement, up the stairs, and to the living room calling out to him the entire way. But his friend ignored him, strides short and quick as he reached the front door. Ford grabbed his arm just as the man grasped the doorknob in a shaking hand, stopping him in his tracks.

“Fiddleford, just wait-”

“What do you think you’re playing at?” He said, violently shrugging off Ford’s hand.

“What are you even talking ab- ”

“You kept telling me our project was going to bring great things, but-” Fiddleford paused, biting his nails. The hand on the doorknob moved to nervously adjust the lapels of his coat.

“Please tell me what’s going on, Fiddleford. What did you see?” Stanford looked uncharacteristically nervous for a man who normally seemed so confident. After everything, Fiddleford wasn’t sure if he could believe that look.

“Did you know about this?” Fiddleford spat. He avoided staring too long at the tapestries hanging on the walls. Each depicted that awful triangle and he could feel their gaze on him. How could Ford stand it?

“You knew what would be at the other end of that portal, didn’t you!? I’ve told you- many times I’ve told you of the high probability of failure but…”

Ford was flabbergasted.

“That has to be it. You knew and…there is no way you could have gotten these ideas on your own unless, unless-”

“What on Earth are you talking about!?” Ford interrupted. He couldn’t stand hearing anymore of the man’s paranoid accusations. “Why can’t you just tell me what you’ve seen? Fiddleford, this is crazy!”

Fiddleford had his back pressed against the door, a fingernail now bitten down to the quick.

“Crazy, crazy is right.” He said, wincing as he pressed a thumb to his chewed nail. “I can’t do this anymore, Stanford.”

“Look, let’s be rational about this. You probably just have a bad case of dimensional travel sickness. If you just sit down-”

“NO! No…I’m not staying here.” Fiddleford said, turning around to grasp the doorknob in a white-knuckled grip. “Dismantle the portal, take the pieces and scrap them just- I quit. I want no part in whatever this is anymore.”

Then Fiddleford was out the door, pulling the flaps of his lab coat tight around his lithe frame to shield himself from the freezing wind. Ford stood at the entrance, watching his friend leave with a look of bewilderment.

“So you’re abandoning our project just like that!?!” Ford shouted. “After months of hard work you’re just going to leave?”

Fiddleford didn’t respond. Instead he made his way to his parked truck, throwing the side door open, and planted himself in the driver’s seat. It wasn’t long before the sound of a rumbling engine and screeching tires filled the chilly air and with that, he was gone.

The sky was overcast. Thick, dark clouds loomed overhead promising the arrival of a storm. Ford stepped inside, slamming the front door closed. He couldn’t believe this! His fists clenched and unclenched as he paced his living room. They were so close to completing this important project and Fiddleford decided to leave. To think he had considered them to be friends- ridiculous! This was all so ridiculous.

“Well, good riddance!” Ford growled to himself. He didn’t need him. Whatever he saw on the other side of that portal couldn’t have been that rattling. Fiddleford had always been sensitive to the supernatural. That’s all this was.

All he needed was himself- and his muse, of course. After everything, Bill proved to be his only true friend.

Ford made his way to his desk, flipping his journal open to a fresh page. He needed to document these recent happenings and afterwards, he will consult with Bill. Together, they would work out the bugs and complete the portal together. Fiddleford would feel like such a fool for leaving once Ford gets rightfully recognized for this massive contribution to the scientific community.

With that in mind, he dipped the point of his quill into the ink bottle and began to write.

-

Ford returned to the world in a blinding haze of light and fire only to be snuffed out not soon after. Agonizing events blurred together but pain was consistent and the numbing embrace of death never lasted. He had felt his bones crack and snap, flesh peeled from his prone body, organs ripped and crushed over and over. Then it would start again, as if nothing had happened. A moment of relief, but short- too short.

Clamoring, cackling voices merged together in a white noise. Words- or what was only assumed to be words- were spoken but what was said was lost. Bleating, bellowing, shrieking voices saying nothing and meaning nothing. He couldn’t think, the fight or flight urge overwhelmed his senses but neither was achievable. He was a trapped animal, surrounded from all sides. Broken, fixed, and broken again.

His head was yanked back, hair pulled so taut it threatened to tear from his scalp. The unpleasant sensation of hot, moist breath tickled against his exposed throat. Something nipped its jaws against his skin, cutting the flesh of his neck and scraping against the edge of his collar.

An unsteady huff of air, hands trembling, and nerves wound tight. How many times had this happen? He knows what to expect.

It clamped down on him suddenly and a garbled choke was all he could manage, fingers twitching and body convulsing. Teeth grated loudly against metal, ringing horribly in his ears and fluid rose from the back of his throat. He stared blankly ahead, single eye gazing upwards at the dark ceiling and watched the ever changing colors of the space between the bricks. Spots broke his vision, growing larger with each passing second until darkness overtook everything.

Then nothing.

.

.

.

Then something. His flesh burned, his muscles burned, everything was on fire before his mind could catch up. He registered black stone expanding like a field and ending with a dozen blurry, mountainous limbs.

He found himself on his stomach, face against cool stone. Something had pressed itself on his back, over his spine The pressure slowly increased and Ford could feel the air being forced from his aching lungs.

He gasped, bracing his hands against the floor and weakly attempted to wriggle from beneath the crushing weight. His limbs were numb with pins and needles and felt thoroughly useless.

“Get off!” He struggled to say, but all that came out was a barely audibly wheeze. He breathed rapidly and shallowly, finding it impossible to take full breaths. He was being crushed, again. Again and again and again and it will never end. Ford’s arms went limp. He stopped moving, stopped breathing. There was no use fighting. Countless times he had told himself that and countless times he had forgotten, tried fighting back, and failed. Every time he had failed.

He was so tired.

The pressure reached an unbearable threshold before a resounding SNAP broke through the muggy air. And Ford felt nothing.

.

.

.

He curled in on himself, fingers clutching the wrinkled sleeves of his coat. He could hear it, faint whispers and low, barely discernable voices speaking from seemingly nowhere yet everywhere at once.

Fiddleford had left several hours ago and Ford’s fury at having their project abandoned so carelessly eventually gave way to uncertainty, then to a deep uneasiness. What exactly had his friend seen that warranted such a reaction? And where were these voices coming from and why won’t they stop?

The wind rattled against the window, thick drops of rain hitting the dirty glass. He stood in the middle of his thinking room, staring blankly at the journal that rested upon his mahogany desk. The urge to write called to him but what was to be said? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure of a lot of things in this moment.

He called softly to his muse for what felt like the hundredth time. But once again, there was no response.

The voices continued, some murmuring and others howling like damned souls. Covering his ears did nothing to drown out the noise. He couldn’t tell whether they were real or just perceived but regardless, he had to speak to Bill.

He called out once more, voice louder and laced with anxiety. He waited a moment, watching the dust specks made visible from the light of his lamp float through the stale air.

His muse didn’t respond.

A surge of pain shot through his eye and he grimaced, squeezing it shut. The pain had gradually increased the past few hours and he could now barely hold it open. He absentmindedly swiped a thumb over his cheek, wiping away the hot tear that managed to escape past his eyelid.

A cursory glance at the red smear left on his thumb was enough to have him bolt from his study to the bathroom down the hall. He threw the door open, flipping the switch and light flooded the clean, white room.

He gazed at himself in the mirror noting immediately the bit of blood streaked against his cheekbone. His injured eye was still closed but he could see red along the crease of his eyelid, dark fluid clumping on his eyelashes.

He briefly took in the pallor of his skin and the dark circles around his eyes. He looked dreadful, he thought, and the blood on his face only contributed to the ghastly image. He leaned closer to his reflection, pulling his eye open with a thumb and forefinger.

The sclera was completely red.

Ford winced and removed his fingers, squeezing his eye shut once more. Another droplet of blood dripped down his cheek and he quickly yanked several sheets of toilet paper from the holder, balled them up, and pressed it against his bleeding eye.

“What is going on?” He asked himself breathily. So much seemed to be happening at once. His eye, Fiddleford, the voices, Bill’s absence. His muse was keeping something from him, that much was obvious at this point. But what exactly that was, Ford was almost afraid to know.

His gaze rose to his reflection and a startled shout tore from his throat. His uninjured eye held a sickly yellow tint, the pupil contracted to a thin slit. He stumbled until his back slammed against the bathroom door, shaking it on its hinges. Then, his visage had changed. All he saw was his own terrified face staring back at him, trembling hand still pressing the bloody tissue paper to his eye.

A strange trick of the light? He would be inclined to believe that if it weren’t for that…smile. If one could even call it that. A wide, manic grin that had stretched across his pale face in a cruel mockery of a human smile. He couldn’t have imagined that.

His heart hammered in his chest as he stared at his reflection, waiting to see if it would change once more. But it remained the same. The voices had gotten louder, he noticed. They rang through his skull in a hellish cacophony and Ford found himself fleeing from the bathroom and down the hall.

"Did it - dimensional - soon we’ll - can’t - not long before - wait - fell into the - idiotic - ALMOST -”

Ford covered his ears but the action proved once again futile. He stopped at the elevator entrance, staring at the closed shutters and debating on whether he should go down there or not.

“Bill!” He called out desperately. “Bill, what is this? What is happening?”

“The door is open.” His muse finally said.

Ford’s stomach dropped. Those four words echoing through his mind, repeating like a mantra. Oh god.

“What have I done?”

.

.

.

“Aren’t you getting tired of this?” A voice asked. Ford only groaned in response. His vision was tunneled and his flesh burned. His flesh always seemed to burn.

“Decapitated seven times, Twenty-three instances of disembowelment. Scalping, skinning, good old fashioned skull smashing. Yes, I’ve been keeping tally of course. It’s part of the fun!”

Ford tried to speak but his tongue felt heavy in his mouth. His entire body was static.

“But come on, you’re not even fighting as much as you did before! You’re taking the sport out of this.” Bill said. Of course it was Bill. Who else would it be?

“Are you getting bored, Sixer? Is repeated death by electrocution not doing it for you anymore? Is having your own vile intestines shoved down your throat getting too stale?” He sounded bitter, Ford noted dully, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel self-satisfied over it. Instead he felt…empty.

“Empty, huh?” Bill said carefully as if tasting the word. “So you are bored. Youjust got to the party and you’re already itching for a ride home. Talk about being a wet blanket!”

“Bill.” Ford muttered.

“Oh, he finally speaks! What does the poor killjoy have to say? ‘Stop killing me?’ ‘Leave me alone?’ ‘Please don’t break every bone in my precious wrinkly meatsack?’ We’re all dying to know.”

“Bill,” Ford said again. “Shut. Up.”

A moment passed before an enraged “WOW” assaulted Ford’s ears. “WOW, so it’s going to be like that, huh!?”

“Uh, boss?” A meek voice spoke up. “You’re getting a little-”

“No, no, stay out of this. I got a bone to pick with this wise guy.”

Ford’s body was lifted from the ground and he noted the blue aura that encompassed his dangling arms. He was quickly flipped over and winced as a golden light suddenly struck his vision. His sight adjusted and Bill came into view, arms crossed and glaring down at him.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Stanford, even after I went through the effort of arranging this little get together. Do you honestly think you’re in any place to be talking back to me?”

Ford growled under his breath. His muscles were tense under Bill’s scrutiny but any sense of immediate fear was pushed to the far back of his mind. After countless beatings and gruesome deaths, what could Bill do to him now that would be any worse than what he had already experienced?

“Just give this up already.” Ford grunted. “Can’t you see you’re just wasting your time?”

“Time, schmime. Time is an illusion and the concept of wasting it is absolute bunk. When are you going to get with the program, pal? I have eternity laid out in the palm of my hand…and you as well in case you somehow forgot.”

Bill reached out and tightly grasped the man’s hair in a fist. Ford recoiled slightly but his gaze remained resolute, eye narrowed in hatred and teeth bared.

“Oh, is someone feeling brave?” Bill taunted, tugging his hair. “I think I liked you better when you were sniveling beneath me.”

Bill released him and the aura dissipated immediately, causing Ford to fall a short distance before his back slammed painfully against the stone floor.

“What happened to that old Fordsy, huh? At what point did you decide to regrow your fragile, little spine? After fourth time it snapped?” Bill’s tone was teasing but the underlying petulance was apparent.

“I could snap my fingers and my friends would be back on you in an instant, you know” He continued, holding a thumb and middle finger together to illustrate his point. “I think this intermission has gone on long enough don’t you think?”

“Then what are you waiting for?” Ford asked, sighing wearily. “Get back to it then.”

That wasn’t the response Bill had expected and Ford knew it. What with the way his eye widened slightly before the light of his body suddenly changed from gold to a bright red. An instinctual stab of fear shot through Ford but he stifled the feeling immediately. He was through with being scared. After everything, what else was there to be scared of?

“So it’s really going to be like that, huh?” Bill said, clenching and unclenching his fists. “It’s really going to be like that.”

“Boss,” The small voice spoke once again. “I think you should-”

“I said STAY OUT OF THIS.” Bill roared, turning a wide, furious eye at the small creature in the crowd. It shrieked in agony, mandibles clacking as each atom in its body suddenly erupted and scattered in a burst of light.

Everyone fell silent. Whispering voices and amused chuckles stopped abruptly as the last flaming flecks of the creature’s body settled onto the dark stone. An uncomfortable tension permeated the room as everyone stared at Bill, varying expressions of fear or uneasiness evident on their faces. Ford held his breath.

“That’s enough.” Bill said, voice cold and tight. “Party’s over.”

Bill threw his hand to the side and Ford’s surroundings wisped away until he found himself back within the warm confines of the penthouse suite. Something tugged on the back of Ford’s collar, choking him as he was unceremoniously dragged backwards until his head smashed against the wall with a dull crack.

Ford cried out, gripping his head in his hands. He tried pulling himself forward but found it impossible. It was as if the collar was welded to the wall.

“Do you think you’re some big hero or something?” Bill said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. Ford squinted his eye open and saw Bill inches from his own face, pupil slitted and boring into him.

“A sacrificial lamb willing to embrace an eternity of suffering to protect your dimension? Please.” He scoffed. “How stupid could you get.”

Ford groaned as a deep ache settled into his head. The empty space of his eye socket throbbed hotly.

“When are you going to drop this annoying martyr act? It’s unbecoming of you.” Bill reached forward and held Ford’s face between his hands, nails gently scratching the rough skin of his cheeks.

“Although…I have to admit, you look amazing with your intestines splayed out of your repulsive body. And how could I forget the look on your face the first time your chest caved in?”

Bill’s voice had lowered itself to almost a purr and Ford’s stomach twisted violently at the hazily recalled memories.

“Not to mention,” The demon added, “Watching what my friends did to your corpse was pretty entertaining in itself.”

Ford’s head swam at the implications of that last statement and the urge to retch was overwhelming. But he managed to contain himself for now. Bill was just trying to get under his skin and Ford wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

“Wow, look at you!” Bill laughed. “I can practically see the gears turning in your head. What an active imagination! That’s one of the things I like about you.”

Bill stroked the line of Ford’s jaw, rubbing his fingers against the man’s stubble.

“Surprisingly creative, too smart for your own good, and endlessly interesting.” He murmured. “Gullible too; that’s definitely one of my favorite human qualities.”

“Is this supposed to flatter me?” Ford asked disdainfully.

“What, you don’t think I’m being sincere? I don’t know what gave you the impression that I am anything less than wholehearted one hundred percent of the time always.”

Bill’s high cackle only worsened Ford’s miserable headache.

“But seriously,” Bill said, quieting his laughter. “I’m not lying when I say I like you. But what I don’t like is how infuriatingly adamant you are about playing the part of the ‘The Lone Suffering Hero.’ You’re smart enough to know how pointless that is.

“So come on, Fordsy. Things don’t have to be this way. It’s not too late to turn everything around. Just tell me what I need to know and all this unnecessary pain will go away.”

Ford was hit with the bitter urge to laugh.

“Are you dense, Cipher?” He said. “It doesn’t matter what you do to me; I’mnever going to tell you. I refuse.”

Bill regarded Ford carefully, expression unreadable but the malicious glint in his eye wasn’t missed.

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.” He replied simply.

Before Ford could process what was happening, a force pushed him violently to the side. He caught himself on the heels of his hands before his face could collide with the floor. He was being dragged once again, an unseen force tugged at his collar and pulled him across the room on his belly.

Ford scrabbled at the ground, nails catching within the grooves of the brick flooring as the fireplace rapidly approached. Without warning, his face was lifted and shoved into the flames. Fire licked and seared his skin and a pained shriek ripped from his throat. His head was pressed to the wood and an instinctual intake of air only welcomed burning heat and soot.

He desperately struggled to yank his head out but found it impossible. His vision quickly darkened and his nerves screamed before all sensation was lost.

He couldn’t recall when exactly he had blacked out.

.

.

.

Ford’s skin burned when he awoke and, for a moment, he thought the flames had spread to the rest of his body. A frantic once over of himself proved otherwise. He was sprawled on his back, the fireplace not far from where he lay.

“Wow, I never thought I’d get bored with this but here we are. Do you see what you’ve done, Sixer? You’ve made this boring.”

Ford turned his gaze to Bill who was now sitting upon the piano bench, idly tinkling the ivory keys with a surly look. The man sat up, unthinkingly feeling his face. His eye socket still pained him and the surrounding flesh was swollen but everything else was otherwise back to normal.

“I don’t understand why you’re willing to put yourself through all this.” Bill grumbled. “For what? A dimension you haven’t even occupied for thirty years? All these useless meatbags? Your-”

Bill stopped himself mid sentence, hand suddenly slamming down on the piano keys. Ford watched as the demon’s eye slowly widened. Seconds passed before a low laugh broke out, slowly increasing in volume until it became shrill, almost screaming. Bill tapped the keys in a brief, one handed rhythm before lifting himself into the air.

“I can’t believe myself!” He laughed, squeezing his eye shut. “I can’t believe it never once occurred to me…”

Ford stared at him warily, startled by his sudden outburst.

“Oh Fordsy. Oh Fordsy, Fordsy, Fordsy, Fordsy, Fordsy.” Bill sighed. “I’ve been going about this all wrong. I can break you physically and mentally over and over until the cows come home but that won’t change a thing, would it?”

Bill floated over to him, a look of mirth in his squinted eye. Ford found himself scooting away as he approached, unnerved by his inexplicable change in mood.

“Nope, you keep your secrets locked up tight.” He said, reaching out to tap his knuckles twice against Ford’s head. “No code to unlock that safe. But get this, Sixer?”

Ford’s back hit the wall and he tensed as the distance between himself and Bill lessened.

“I know the code now.”

Ford swallowed dryly.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, afraid of what Bill’s answer may be.

The demon laughed again, high voice echoing sharply off the stone walls.

“Your family.” He said.

Ford’s stomach dropped and the look of terror that crossed his face was enough to send Bill into another fit of piercing laughter.

“No.” Ford croaked. His body felt cold and his heart hammered rapidly in his chest. “No, no, please. Don’t involve them, don’t-”

“That’s the ticket, isn’t it?” Bill said. “Maybe if I extend the invitation to your family, you’ll feel more cooperative. What do you think, Stanford?”

“Don’t you dare!” Ford shouted. “Leave them out of this!”

“Buddy, unless you’re planning on coughing up the info I need any time soon, you’re family’s going to be in a world of hurt. And what would poor Pine Tree and Shooting Star think knowing that their Great Uncle Ford’s stubbornness was the reason for-”

“SHUT UP!” Ford lunged at Bill but was shoved back before his hands could reach him, to tear him apart. An unseen pressure pushed on his chest, holding him in place against the wall.

“Touched a nerve there, didn’t I?” Bill chuckled. “You’re cute.”

“You can’t hurt them, I won’t let you-”

“You won’t let me?” Bill said, flicking Ford’s nose. “Tell me, what power do you have over me? What could you possibly do to stop me? You only have two options: you either unlock that little safe for me now and tell me what I need to know or I could figure out just how many volts it would take to make your brother’s heart stop beating. Permanently. So what’s it going to be?”

Ford’s hands trembled. He wasn’t going to say anything- he couldn’t. He hadn’t seen his family in the human throne but that doesn’t mean that they’re not in there. Regardless wherever they may be, they’re away from Bill now but…if Bill managed to get ahold of them…

Ford wasn’t sure what he would do.

Ford opened his mouth to speak but was afraid that his next words would be ones that he’d later regret.

“No.” He whispered, mouth dry and voice weak. “N-no. I’m..I won’t tell you. I can’t.”

Bill gazed at Ford for a short moment before his hand came to rest in the man’s hair. Black fingers combed through his greasy locks, soft and gentle.

“Stanford,” He said, tugging carefully at a knot. “When are you going to learn that saying no to me is a terrible idea?”

A pressure settled on his forehead, holding his head in place as Bill’s clawed fingers slowly reached for Ford’s remaining eye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "What have I done?"  
> thanks for reading  
> 


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